White Handkerchief
by AutomneArcher
Summary: His face was sculpted by the God's themselves. His eyes were the colour of the sun. Almost too beautiful for her brown eyes to behold, but there he was standing in front of her. Staring at her with kind eyes at her fragile disposition. Was it mere coincidence or has their fate already been written? New Fanfic :) I do NOT own anything.
1. Golden Eyes

She had been out on the fields since dawn. The morning sun rising into the soporific sky.

She was always the first to arise. It was her secret ritual. She awoke when giants were still asleep, and she was free to roam out into the fields to her heart's content. She spent those early hours of dawn, sweetly tending to her animals.

She carefully brushed the horses and made sure they were well fed. Even during the harsh cold winter she patiently tended to the ones that were newly born; helping them drink large quantities of milk and made sure they were kept warm throughout the night. She fed the chickens and watched through mirth lighted eyes as they came running towards her; they pecked, flew, and most of the time chased her around the fields as the mischievous side of her loved to tease.

She was alone most of the time, and there were moments when she did feel quite alone, but the moment she was out there. She was in a world within her own. This was her secret garden in which she only posessed the key.

It was early September, on a saturday morning. The day bright and clear with the sun's rays blindingly bright. The air was crisp and fresh, the scent of grass and country air permeating her olfactory.

She had spent the first half of dawn tending to her animals and the second half cleaning the house and painstakingly waxing the floorboards of the living room and stairs. She spent those long hours scrubbing coarsely against the wooden floor with her ragged cloth. The end result was a well cleaned and well waxed floor that was glimmering with a sheen.

A smile touched her lips, content with her hard work, as she finished the last stair. She wiped the sweat that had formed on her forehead as the warm sun penetrated the upstair's window.

Her days were mostly consisted of school and chores, but she didn't quite care. Nothing much quite bothered her.

She carried within herself what most people seemed to lack; an inner happiness that glowed through her warm brown eyes. She was viviacious and full of life and it showed in every aspect of her being. In those days, what people considered a good day, consisted of long hours in the kitchen and even longer hours in your next door neighbour's front porch.

Pouring tea and serving cakes as they catch up on the latest gossip. Social calls were taken very seriously. Etiquette and class was your one-way ticket rise to, _society_as they would call it. A perfect husband and a well furnished home was considered the epitome of a perfect life.

But that was _far_from what she wanted her life to be.

She sat there quietly eating her scrambled eggs. She looked around at the breakfast table, her father had his nose buried in the newspaper and her mother was busy fumbling with the kitchen cupboards.

"Esme, dear, you should wash up after eating, we're visiting Mrs. Robinson later this afternoon." Her mother's mellifluous voice cutting through the silence.

She swore her stomach dropped at the name of Mrs. Robinson. She was never a complainer, but good gracious, the never ending hours of her mother and that gallurous woman talking endlessly would just drive her mad. And those embaressing suitors she would get introduced to in the process, she felt like a transparent vase for display as people pressed their faces on the glass window. A shudder went through her.

"Did you hear anything I said?" Her mother asked, with a raised eyebrow.

She swallowed hard. Food suddenly loosing it's taste. "Yes, mother." she replied, looking down.

After breakfast, she took a glance at the grandfather clock in the living room, she sighed in relief. It had just only turned 7. She went upstairs and headed straight for the bathroom. She would do as her mother say, but at least she would get to do it in her own sweet time.

She undressed and stopped as she noticed the hole that was in her dress. Then she remembered that it had gotten caught in the chicken wire earlier that day. _Mother's going to kill me_. She quickly folded the dress and placed it on top of the toilet seat, Esme decided that she would sew it herself, or at least _try to_. Her sewing was a catastrophe waiting to happen.

The water was blessedly warm, as the the jets of water gently traveled through her body. She stood there deep in thought, she was supposed to do something today. _What was it?S_he tapped her fingers lightly on her bottom lip.

That's it!

She could feel a frisson of excitement as she quickly turned off the shower. She peeked out into the hallway and gingerly tiptoed out of the bathroom and into her room as fast as she could. Thankfully only slipping once halfway there. She was still dripping wet as she dried her hair with the towel. She rummaged through her closet as she began tossing dresses onto the floor. She picked the one with the simplest design. She hated dresses with too much frills, they got in the way when she would run; besides it was in her favorite shade of blue. She sat at her dresser and stared at her reflection. She squinted her eyes and made a funny face, she laughed in amusement, but when she looked at her hair, she sighed. Her curls were out of control as she helplessly tried to brush it.

As she finished, she decided to look at herself more seriously this time. She made it a habit in the beginning as she was reaching adolescence to avoid staring at the mirror; she had too many friends who made a big fuss of what was wrong in their reflection, and she didn't want to be a part of that kind of mentality. So she decided to simply not look. Besides _there are more important things, than vanity_. But still her curiosity got the better of her_._

Her cheeks were a vivid shade of light pink from all that outdoor sun, her eyes a clear shade of brown. She had a lovely heart-shaped face with a delicate widow's peak on her forehead. She looked, but felt a sense of inadequacy. She felt like her face posessed a charachteristic that she did not. But she had no time to linger on the thought as the grandfather clock struck 10. She quickly grabbed her book and bolted out of her room and down the stairs.

She was filled with a surge of vigour as she ran out of the house.

Her hair flying wildly with the wind as her legs sailed swiftly across the fields; a beautiful vision of youth to behold as she ran gracefully into the nearby forest.

She stopped and leaned against a tree as she took a breath, she looked up at the sky and noticed that storm clouds were closing in.

She walked a few meters into the forest and saw an extremely large tree. It was old and gnarled and seemed ancient, but the light that shone through the branches was just exquisite for reading. On an impulse, she placed the book in her mouth to hold it as she started to climb. It was extremely easy, the branches were large and strong and she made her way into the higher parts in no time. She made herself comfortable in one of the larger branches as she thumbed through the last chapters of the book she was reading. She had been reading Wuthering Heights that week.

She let out a sigh of content as she finished the last page, but her breath caught in her throat as she heard a familiar voice in the distance.

"Esme! Esme where are you? I need you to help me with the cakes."

_Oh no._

Her mother called out to her but stopped as she looked up, she had found her daughter.

"What in heaven's name are you doing there!?" Her mother yelled,

Before Esme could reply, she fell backwards and landed on her knee.

"Get up! get up quickly, we're going to be late!"

She had started to get up when she felt her left knee snap.

She screamed.

Her mother was at her side instantly.

"What is it?" Her mother asked with a puzzled expression,

"Mama, Mama I think my leg is broken." Esme said in panic as the pain started to shoot throughout her body.

"My goodness, we have to get you back to the house, put your arm around me dear."

Her mother helped her as she limped her way out of the woods, their large victorian home in plain view.

She was on the couch, the pain was excruciating. She felt like her leg was about to explode.

"Hang on, sweetie. The Doctor's on his way."

Her father tried his best at a reassuring smile but failed as his thick brows furrowed in distress.

She could feel her leg swelling and throbbing, it felt like an ogre tearing at her muscles. She bit her lip to keep from screaming as tears gushed from the corner of her eyes.

She could hear someone had arrived at the door. But she was too engrossed in the pain to see who it was, all she could hear was her mother's voice,

"I see, so you will be taking over for Dr Peterson?"

She tried to listen to the conversation that was being held but the pain was too painful of a distraction,

"My daughter is in the living room, right this way please."

The afternoon sun had fully set. The living room seemed darker, despite the lamp that rested beside her on the wooden coffee table.

She was clutching her leg, whimpering in pain as she tried vainly to ease the pain when she saw him enter.

He was the image of beauty in it's perfection. Tall, lean but muscular. Blonde, his face seemed sculpted by the gods themselves, but _his eyes_.

She stared in disbelief.

She watched as he made his way towards her, an air of mystery around him.

He knelt in front of her, a gentle smile on his face.

"Your mother tells me you fell." His voice was soft, but clear. There was a slight trace of an accent.

All she could muster was a slack-jawed nod.

"May, I?" He asked, motioning to her leg.

"Yes." She replied, biting her lip to stop herself from screaming in pain.

He ran an expert hand over her leg, as he gently touched her knee.

She couldn't explain wether the pain had made her leg numb or wether it was going to her head, but his hands felt _cold._ They were gentle and _yet. . ._

She watched as he took out a white cloth and poured liquid over it.

He gently wiped the dirt off from her leg as he started to unwind some sort of bandage.

Their eyes met and her heart seemed to stop, only for a moment.

Was it the trick of the light? Or was his eyes the color of gold?

She seemed to loose track of what was happening as she found herself staring at him. His eyes were hooded as he worked on her leg; the colour of his irises, almost resembling the rising sun at dawn.

His hands were soft and gentle as he began to neatly wrap her leg in a cast.

He spoke to her, without looking up.

"That's a lovely book." He smiled as he nodded to what she was holding.

She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks, dying them a bright pink.

"What is your name?" He asked, as his gaze fixed onto her eyes.

She looked at him, his eyes clear as day.

"Esme, my name is Esme." She replied rather hoarsely. The pain making her feel weak yet her eyes glowed with curiosity.

"That's a beautiful name." He replied, smiling once more.

"My name is, Carlisle."

Carlisle

She quietly said the name in her head, as an unbidden smile formed on her lips.

"Esme, I'm going to give you an injection. It is to help with the pain, it won't hurt I promise." He said reassuringly.

She nodded, staring up at him as he stood up.

He took out a vial and a syringe.

She swallowed hard as she felt a sting go through her skin, she closed her eyes.

She could hear soft laughter, she could see the amusment in his eyes as she took a peek with one eye.

"I promised, it wouldn't hurt." He said, "Your leg will be just fine, within a week or so."

He touched her cheek lightly as he smiled.

She was beginning to feel sleepy. She watched as he exited the room; he had dropped something on the way out. She stretched out a hand and picked it up, and held it close to her face. It looked like a handkerchief. She could smell his perfume faintly on it as a smile lit her face. She quickly hid it in her pocket.

Her vision was slowly blurring as she slipped into unconciousness. She tried to stay awake, she wanted to thank him but she was slowly fading into slumber.

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm back with a new fanfic, I know some of you have been requesting a sequel to Barefoot In the Dark and don't worry I shall get to work on it soon, but first things first, I really wanted to do a Carlisle/Esme fic so here it is! I hope you like it and please review, they make me smile and feel warm and fuzzy :) and story suggestions are welcome :D cheers!**

**I do NOT own anything.**


	2. Lovestruck Goodbye

She awoke the next day to the sound of rain tapping gently on her window sill.

She laid there as she rubbed her eyes fervently. She felt groggy and slightly achy. Esme realized that she was still wearing the dress from yesterday, as the events resurfaced into her mind. A wide smile formed on her lips as she remembered the handkerchief in her pocket. She took it out and held it close to her face. It smelled exactly like _him_, she felt delicious warmth go through her body at the thought of _Carlisle_.

She could still remember his voice. Clear and fresh in her mind as he said her name. She could feel her blood rush to her cheeks as she thought of it.

She started to get up slowly when she had accidentally knocked something over.

She looked down to find a pair of walking crutches lying next to her bed, with a note attached to it.

She looked at it confused. _How did that get there?_

She stretched out a hand and grabbed the note. It read,

_"This should assist you while your leg heals._

_I do hope you feel better today._

_-Carlisle._

She laid back on the bed, holding the note close to her chest and screamed in happiness. Esme quickly grabbed her diary from underneath her pillow and secretly tucked the note into its pages.

She wasted no time as she quickly changed, and with her new walking crutches made her way slowly down the stairs.

"Mother?" She called out.

But there was no reply, the house seemed empty.

As she descended down the stairs, she realized walking with crutches seemed quite easy. _It's like having 2 extra legs_.

She made her way to the kitchen to find the table had been set for one.

She went to the sink to wash her hands when she found her mother's familiar handwriting on a piece of paper,

_"Dear,_

_Your father and I have gone to the Sunday mass._  
_Help yourself to some food, there's still some cake on the table__,  
we will be back later tonight._

_-Mother._

_I guess it's just me, myself and I for today._

She sat and ate quietly. She was pondering on what she could do for the day**.**She had finished all her chores yesterday and she had already finished her book. What was there left to do? It was a Sunday after all. That was usually the last day of the week where she found herself with absolutely nothing to do.

She let out a sigh as she washed the dishes. The rain outside seemed to have stopped, but the dark clouds could still be seen looming in the distance.

After washing she stood there for a moment in deep thought. She took out the handkerchief that she had, still kept in her pocket. Supposing she wanted to visit Carlisle, would she? Could she even? _No, I couldn't even if I wanted to. People talk too much, they immediately jump to assumptions. No I can't, mother wouldn't approve._

She went back up the stairs and made her way into her room. She stared at the ceiling, a silent debate commencing within her. She took out her leather-bound journal and took out his note. She stared at it for a long time. She couldn't quite describe it**;** she had the need to see him again. _His eyes were s_o beautiful and yet so strange. She knew she couldn't forget him. His sweet and gentle ways and the deep mystery he held deep within. He was an enigma, an exquisite puzzle that she did not mind solving for the rest of her life. Then there was something in the way he looked at her. He seemed, _lonely_. As she remembered his gaze, she could feel deep sadness for him. It was as if she knew him.

Her thoughts were no longer making sense to her.

That man.

_No._

_Carlisle._

He had seemed to affect her deeply. But she couldn't understand it**;**their meeting was not brief, barely a few minutes. But those minutes seemed like a lifetime. . .

She spent a good deal of 5 hours debating with herself, trying to come up with a logical reaction and a reasonable decision. She knew she wouldn't win in this debate, because she was neither of those things.

The next thing she knew, she found herself walking on the familiar wet sidewalk en route to Dr. Peterson's office. She had heard from her mother yesterday evening that Carlisle was taking over temporarily since Dr. Peterson was away on a weekend leave.

She was shaking. She was so nervous, what could she possibly say to him aside from the fact that he had left his handkerchief behind? _This is ludicrous._

Even though she knew the odds were against her, and there was a possible long talk of etiquette and morality from her mother, she strove on.

She was wearing a yellow floral dress that day, a very bright contrast from the depressing weather condition.

Finally after what seemed like hours of walking on one good leg and two crutches later, the office was in sight.

She started to cross the street, careful to avoid any oncoming vehicles. _I'd like to get there in once piece_. She thought to herself with wry humour.

She stood there and took in a breath as she squeezed the doorknob and pushed the door.

She took a peek inside. There was a very pretty young secretary sitting at a desk.

"Yes?" She said in a condescending tone.

_Great! __How warm and welcoming!_

"Is Carlisle here?" She asked fighting her nervous stammering.

"No. He won't be back till 6pm this evening." The secretary replied flatly.

"T-Thank you."

She quickly closed the door and headed straight for home. Her cheeks were red with embarrassment as she furiously clawed her crutches on the concrete floor.

_Is Carlisle here?_

_What 16 year old can be on a first name basis with a doctor?_

_I'm such an idiot. This is completely absurd._

She winced as she repeated the way she said his name in her head. She had never felt more embarrassed in her entire life. But if there was one thing that snobby secretary didn't know about Esme, it's that she doesn't easily give up.

Esme spent the rest of the day locked up in her room. She didn't come out till dinner time, and even then she was quiet as the wind.

She was lying on the bed as she stared out into the open window. Downstairs she could hear the clock strike 7.

She had made her final decision.

She quietly made her way down the stairs and towards the front door. She squeezed the handle and was about to open it, when her father stopped her.

"Esme, where are you going?" Her father asked, raising an eyebrow.

She froze**, **tension numbing her body.

"I-I thought I could go out for a walk." She cringed at how bad the lie was. She kept her head down, fearing that he might suspect something.

"Hmmm…alright, don't stay out too late." Her father replied as he exited to the living room.

"Yes Dad." She replied, a heavy weight lifting off her shoulders.

The streets held a very different atmosphere when evening came. The wind was colder and the skies grew darker, especially after a storm. The trees were large and ominous**; **they seemed like silent creatures of the dark**,**ready to pounce on the innocent and the defenceless. She never liked wandering out during the night, but on this evening she made an exception.

She scurried her way through the sidewalk and instantaneously made her way across the street.

_It's past 7. He couldn't still be there could he?_

She gathered her courage and opened the door. She saw that the secretary's desk was empty. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. She entered the office and gingerly walked inside, the floorboards creaking with each step. The office was dark and seemed empty, except for the light that was in Dr. Peterson's office.

"Hello?" her voice came out as a whisper.

Her breath seemed to constrict in her throat as she drew nearer to the door.

There was a slight opening in the door, she stepped closer and took a glimpse.

She could see him, his back facing the door. He seemed to be reading something.

She was about to raise a hand to knock, when she accidentally lost her balance and fell with a thud on the floor.

"Esme?" Carlisle spoke, a puzzled expression on his face as he opened the door.

"I-I'm sorry I-" She stammered as she tried to get up,

"It's alright." He replied as he smiled gently.

She swore she could hear her heart pound loudly into her chest, as he took her by the waist and gently helped her to her feet.

She could hear the telephone in his office ring.

"Won't you step inside?" He motioned for her to come in.

She watched as he spoke on the telephone. Esme made herself comfortable in one of the chairs as she watched him speak. In reality she had no idea what he was talking about, but she didn't care. She loved the way the expressions that played delicately on his beautiful features and the way his eyes glimmered when he smiled.

"Esme? Esme?"

She was snapped out of her thoughts. She found him sitting across from her, his eyes silently studying her.

She was about to tell him about the handkerchief when she switched her question in mid-sentence.

"How long will you be taking over for Dr. Peterson?"

"Well. . ." He spoke as he stood up and walked to an old bookshelf. Esme noticed there was a box on his desk. There was this feeling at the pit of her stomach.

"I'm leaving tonight."

She could feel the disappointment drop onto her head like a ton of bricks.

"That's so soon." The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them.

He turned to look at her. Again there was that brief flash of sadness in his eyes.

"Won't you come back?" She asked, trying to sound brave.

He walked towards her and knelt by her side.

"I'm afraid I can't." He replied, looking at her intently.

Her heart was breaking. She had the eerie notion that he knew what she was feeling.

"My dear Esme**,**you are so young, I'm sure with a face like yours, you could break any man's heart." He replied with a gentle smile.

"Will I see you again?" She asked looking down as a tear escaped the corner of her eye.

"If time is kind." He replied.

He softly lifted her chin and ran a gentle thumb across her cheek. She couldn't find the strength to meet his eyes.

"You left this, when you were in the house." She said in a small voice, as she showed him the handkerchief.

"Keep it." He replied.

"I may come back and need it someday."

Their eyes met.

She looked at him, a smile slowly finding its way onto her lips.

"Promise me, you won't lose it."

"I promise." She said.

He led her through the office and out the front door. He was about to say something when she stopped him.

"Will you walk me to the sidewalk? Please?" She looked at him with those pleading brown eyes.

He couldn't say no.

He slowly led her across the street as she fidgeted with her crutches. The wind was blowing, a gentle breeze around them. They walked in silence**;**the murky street lamp was their only light in the darkness. They were beginning to reach a turn in the sidewalk,

"This is as far as I can go." He said quietly.

"Goodbye. . ." She whispered, her voice breaking her resolve.

He looked at her through the darkness.

"Close your eyes." He said softly.

She looked at him, trying to decipher what he had just said.

"It's alright, I promise."

She took one last glance at him to see if he was teasing her, but the expression on his face was serious.

She closed her eyes.

He looked at her, and took a step closer. His face was barely inches from hers**; **he could feel her warm breath against his face. He leaned in and gently kissed the corner of her mouth.

She stood there frozen. Time seemed non-existent, as the world around her came to a sudden halt.

She felt his lips brushed against her skin so softly.

Then suddenly a cold wind brushed past her. She opened her eyes, and found herself alone on the sidewalk.

He was _gone._

She wrote in her diary later that night.

_"September._

_Dearest diary,_

_I found him tonight, only to know he was leaving tomorrow. I can't understand why, but I feel this immeasurable sadness for him and this strange longing to be with him. I should even be chastised for thinking such thoughts. But I cannot tell my heart what to feel. Tonight when he looked at me, he seemed so strange. It was as if he wanted to tell me something. I had asked him to walk with me to the sidewalk when he stopped me, he had asked me to close my eyes and so I did. Never in my life did I expect to be kissed, let alone by someone I had just met. But if I could go back to one moment in my life, I would go back to this night._

_I can't explain him, especially the way he disappeared after he kissed me._

_But I feel like I know him. His face carries this sense of all-consuming mystery._

_But what secrets could he keep beneath those benign eyes?_

_I know he's leaving, but there won't be a day that my heart will not find him."_

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's an update for ya, I hope ya like it :) I'm thinking that this won't probably be as long as Barefoot In The Dark. But I hope you like it anyway :) keep em' reviews coming, they make me feel warm and fuzzy :D And a big thanks to my new beta reader Jucy Sam :3**

**God Bless and stay tuned for a new update :D**


	3. Misunderstood

Monday.

Possibly one of the worst days of the week.

Esme barely slept a wink last night. He was all she thought about**,** until the early hours of the dawn.  
By the time she was able to sleep, she could already hear her mother calling from downstairs to get ready for school.

_I can't do this. Not today. Please God not today._

She covered her head with a pillow as she closed her eyes.

She tried to fall back asleep but it was impossible, the throbbing in her leg had woken her up.

Slowly she pushed the pink covers aside and grabbed her crutches. She slowly limped her way out of her room and across the hall, her crutches made that awful squeaking noise when she stepped on a loose floorboard. She could still see it was dark outside, approximately 4 am. Classes started at 6 am sharp.

She entered the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She had remembered she wasn't allowed to take a full shower to avoid wetting her cast. So instead, she grabbed her face towel and started to soak it with soap and water as she sat at the edge of the bathtub. She gently scrubbed her arms and right leg. When it came to cleaning the left leg she took a pause and closed her eyes, afraid that the soap and water might sting. She opened one eye and started to clean around the cast, a sigh of relief escaping her lips in realization that the pain was slowly subsiding. There were still some reddish scratches on her skin from that fall, but nothing time couldn't heal.

She was fully dressed in her school uniform an hour later.

The walk to school takes 15 minutes but, with her condition it took her an extra 10 minutes just to get there. The sky was murky with clouds that day as strong winds blew past the small town.

She had finally arrived at her destination. The old school was in sight.

She quickly entered the cavernous hallway that held the stale patina of time. The silence of the long corridors told her that classes had started.

She found her classroom. Esme had a feeling this day would not go so well.

The teacher was dictating when she gingerly scurried to her seat.

"Turn your history books to page 205. And remember. . . ."

The teacher took a pause as she looked at Esme's leg.

Her craggy face contorted into a sly smile.

"Tardiness will not be tolerated . . . whatever the excuse may be."

The last sentences were drawled out with contempt.

Esme winced.

She quickly took out her large textbook and turned it to the required page. Her classmates were still staring at her with an odd look she didn't understand. She quickly averted her gaze and concentrated on her book.

Mrs. Kenway was the name of their History teacher.

Esme rarely disliked being around people. But Mrs. Kenway was an exception.

Esme loved history. But she dreaded each day she had to spend with Mrs. Kenway's what was it called again? Oh of course, _disciplinary methods_of teaching.

If they were at sea, Mrs. Kenway would be the captain and Esme would be the hapless member of the crew that would be forced to walk down the plank for mutiny.

It was not because she was rebellious, far from it actually. She was a very obedient child and cared deeply of what others needed and wanted from her. The truth of the matter is that she simply had her own ideals and was one of the rare few adolescents of that decade who actually wanted to share her thoughts and ideas to people who were older than her. In those days, if you were younger and didn't want any trouble, sit down and keep quiet. But of course these things did not apply to her in any way. She didn't want to be tied down, most of all she didn't want to end up a conformist. She was a young woman with goals and dreams. Some would say she is naive, but her innocence is what shields her from the harsh and high demands of society. No one can properly judge her and say she's that or she's this, because they don't take the time to actually hear what she has to say. And thus she learned to keep her thoughts to herself. Why should she waste her words on people who care not to see the world in another's eyes? But beneath such strong will and mind, is a soft and gentle core. Easily hurt and easily bruised, which can come at a price.

The history lesson seemed to drag into infinitum. The monotonous voice of Mrs. Kenway resonating into the dreary classroom. She found herself staring out the window.

The sky had turned into an odd shade of grey. Its clouds contorted into a horrible rictus as they gathered in the centre, clearly a sign that a storm was coming.

She surreptitiously took a glance across the classroom. All her classmates were busy with their books while Mrs Kenway wrote on the chalkboard.

Underneath her History book was her journal. She took it out and turned to an empty page.

"We shall conclude this lesson class, with your next week's assignment. . ."

Mrs. Kenway's beady grey eyes landed on Esme.

She had been doodling flowers on her diary and on an impulse wrote his name down, when a shadow of a figure got reflected on the paper's sheet.

_Oh no._

"I believe our young Ms. Platts is distracted from our class today."

Esme could feel the stares from her classmates dig into her back.

The teacher's voice was seething in sarcasm.

Esme looked up, filled with cold fear. There was a sadistic smile on Mrs Kenway's face.

"What have you been writing, dear child?" Mrs. Kenway asked feigning reassuring benevolence.

"I-I" Esme was fighting for words.

Without warning, the teacher snatched the diary from Esme's hands and walked up to her desk.

Esme closed her eyes in silent prayer. _Please don't let her turn the page, please God._

She opened her eyes and felt tension melt away. The teacher had stayed only on the page she was drawing on.

_Thank God._

She watched as the teacher slowly made her back to where she was sitting.

"You're lucky I let you have this back." She said as she thrust the journal back into Esme's hands.

"But do tell me dear child, aren't you a little young for daydreaming?" Mrs. Kenway asked with an arched eyebrow.

Esme tried to muster an answer but failed. Instead, she lowered her head and kept her eyes on the floor.

"You should know better than to daydream about boys, child. What was his name again? Oh yes, how silly of me to forget. _Carlisle_was the name is it not?"

Esme closed her eyes as a wave of humiliation swept over her.

Mrs. Kenway walked back to her desk.

"I shall expect by next week to no longer see that journal of yours in my class. Lest should we go to extreme measures. I do not want to see your parent's disappointment in your behaviour. Do I make myself clear?"

The entire classroom had their eyes on her, as she gave a quiet nod.

"That's a good girl, Ms. Platts." Mrs. Kenway said with a smile so contrived, it almost looked painful to look at.

Later during recess.

She was seated at the far left corner of the old cafeteria. She meticulously chose the place that was the farthest from her classmates. She just wanted to be left alone, for a while at least.

She was eating a slice of pie when two of the girls from her class passed by.

"You mean he's that handsome doctor who was taking over for Dr. Peterson?" A short red-headed girl said as she took a quick glimpse at Esme.

"I don't care if he's a doctor or if he's handsome, she should be ashamed of herself." A tall blonde replied, her voice filled with contempt.

"Why Suisie Mae, you shouldn't say things like that." The redhead said.

"What? It's the truth. He's much older than her, how could she possibly conceive of such an idea?"

They both turned as they noticed she had been listening to their conversation.

"Let's go." The blonde said as she walked past Esme, looking down at her.

For the first time, food had lost its taste. The aftertaste that lingered in her mouth made her sick. She fought back a tear as she looked across the room.

She realized for the first time that she never quite liked the color of the walls of the cafeteria. They were painted a stale kind of blue. It made the atmosphere feel heavy and mandatory. She felt like the walls were closing in on her. She was beginning to get dizzy as she stood up and limped with her crutches out the door.

She couldn't take it anymore. She just had to get out of there.

Those girls. . .

The way they looked at her. . .

Esme climbed a steep 3 flight of stairs on the way to the old abandoned section of the school. Perspiration covered her face at the last step she took.

She wiped her face with her hand as she took in a breath. She never felt more alone in her life.

She took a seat on one of the stair's steps and leaned against the ancient and decrepit pale blue wall. Esme didn't want to go back down there, not with them _looking_at her like that. She felt like some sort of animal that was caged and presented to the ruthless public, throwing peanuts at her as they pressed their snotty face through metal bars.

All she could do now was hope that their teasing would last for only one day.

And that's _if_she gets lucky.

**A/N: Here's Chapter 3 for you guys out there :) Thank you so much for all the reveiws, I love them all. Remember story suggestions are welcome :) keep reveiwing! they make me blush with happiness :D stay tuned for chapter 4 :)****  
**


	4. Long Nights

Esme was the kind of person that was blessed with optimism. She never liked to look at the glass half empty; she always preferred to look at the glass half full, no matter what the circumstances were . She always faced her challenges with an eager tenacity, and a gentle heart that was always filled with hope.

But, however.

The tauntings at school were beginning to take a toll on her.

Her quiet demeanour was the armour she wore every single day against their attacks. Though she fought with all she had, the words hurt her deeply.

But she would _never_give them the pleasure of defeat.

They can talk all they want.

They are just _words_. . .

In the beginning she denied it to herself that the words those girls said at school didn't hurt. Perhaps denial was the only thing numbing her pain, but then in the long nights she slept on her bed, their voices would come back to haunt her. The words reverberating into her mind creating a tempest within her. Their faces filled with filthy superiority.

_"October._

_Dearest Diary,_

_The girls at school are relentless. They won't stop. I just can't understand.  
I've done nothing wrong._

_Right?_

_Mrs Kenway is worse. Every Monday, she makes it a habit of humiliating me in class. I can't think of a reason why she hates me so much. Susie Mae is the worst of them all. Ever since that day in class when Mrs_

_Kenway saw my diary and said Carlisle's name in class, Susie Mae's attitude towards me seems to turn into anger which I have no comprehension of._

_I've never felt such cruelty in my life._

_It seems that they take pleasure in teasing me and making my life miserable._

_I can't tell Mother about it, she won't understand. She definitely will chastise me even just for writing in class. Let alone writing his name into my journal._

_Father seems distant. I barely see him anymore._

_Putting poignancy aside_,

_I am thankful to my new English teacher, Ms Roberts._

_Whenever I'm having a particularly hard day, she talks to me__, i__nevitably making me feel better.  
She is extremely sweet. Thank God for her, I don't know how long I would have gotten through the last few months without her. She's like the older sister I've always wanted, wise and yet funny, firm but kind. I shall always be thankful to her kindness."_

_"November._

_Dearest Diary,_

_Ms_

_Roberts has been fired._

_This is completely ridiculous, I feel like I'm being punished for something that I didn't do. I went up to speak with the school's principal myself that morning and told him that she was merely talking to me. But then he replied in a very dry tone "That it is not of the teacher's position to interfere with personal matters of students."_

_Personal matters?_

_I didn't even tell her any of the events that happened in the last months. How ludicrous can this school system be?_

_All she did was talk to me, shared jokes with me and spoke to me about her ideals._

_The principle told me that she was not 'safe' to be teaching at the school. He said that her candour was a bad influence on the students; giving them 'ideas' as he called them._

_I'm helpless with this situation. I tried to reason with them. But all they could hear was how 'insolent' I was at speaking to my elders in such a manner._

_I feel like I've let Ms Roberts down. She didn't deserve any of this. If anyone should have the blame, it should be me. I should have never gotten so close with her. It's just that, I've felt so alone this last month. Everything seems so confusing, and she helped me go through it with her benevolence and humour__._

_I feel like I lost a good friend."_

That was the moment when Esme knew she wanted to be a teacher.

The teachers she grew up with were stern and clinical. But Ms Roberts showed her that sometimes change _is_ good. Opening your mind to new ideas was like opening your eyes to a whole new world, it's not something to deny or something to be afraid of. Change _is_part of life.

She knew that she would never forget the kind teacher.

The holidays were beginning to set in, which meant no school for a couple of weeks, which also meant time away from the _snake pit._

Autumn was her favourite time of the year.

The way the lush greenery turned into faded remnants of the past year in one big beautiful ruin, as its memories are swept away by the wind.

The once green leaves, now replaced with incandescent colours of red and gold.

Everywhere she looked it seemed, each golden leaf she saw resembled the color of his eyes.

She spent a good a first week of her holiday break working her way through the never ending chores.

_"List of things to clean._

_1. Dust all the wooden furniture._  
_2. Mop the floors._  
_3. Clean the chicken pens._  
_4. Clean the horses and refill their water buckets._  
_5. Do the laundry._  
_6. Organize the kitchen cupboard. (Porcelain from glass must be separated.)_  
_7. Clean the bathroom floor._  
_8. Clean the living room carpet. (Esme dear, make sure to remove the dust thoroughly.)_  
_9. Throw the garbage._  
_10. Iron all the clean clothes."_

She worked from the early hours of dawn till the late hours of night. Diligently cleaning, mopping, scrubbing and ironing till she thought she was going to go completely bonkers.

It was 10 minutes past 11 in the night.

She needed to finish the last batch of shirts for her father to wear for work.  
She patiently ironed out every wrinkle from every nook and cranny and meticulously folded each one and placed them neatly onto the laundry basket. The beads of sweat started to form at the temples of her head and made their way down to her cheeks. She was extremely exhausted. But she had to finish this right away, not later, not tomorrow, _now._

Several shirts and one finger singed finger later, she was finished.

Her legs were aching from the long hours of standing. She was scheduled for the cast to be removed tomorrow by Dr Peterson; she no longer needed the crutches.

She slowly dragged herself up the stairs and straight to her bedroom. She was dead tired.

Esme collapsed onto the bed and closed her eyes.

She fell into deep slumber in no time.

Sometime during the night, she awoke to the sound of someone's voice calling her.

It was so familiar. Yet the voice was barely above a whisper, she couldn't be sure who it was.

She sat up in bed, confused.

The room felt cold, she glanced at the window to find it open.

_That's so strange._

She slowly got up from her bed and walked to the window and pulled the sill down. Esme felt a shudder go through her as she went back to bed.

The darkness in her room silhouetted the large and foreboding trees outside. Their thorny branches outstretched like greedy hands waiting for an innocent victim.

She quickly pulled the blanket over her head. Underneath her pillow was his handkerchief. She grabbed it and held it close to her face, she began to replay the memory of the night she had met him.

_His beautiful face._

_His eyes like golden fire._

_His gentleness._

She fell asleep with Carlisle in her thoughts. . .

**A/N: Whew! this took me a while to type out, Haha. Hope you guys like it! keep reading! :D **_**  
**_


	5. Bittersweet

It was the middle of November.

The nights grew longer as each day passed without a moment's thought.

The whisper of winter was near. Everywhere you looked; the streets were covered in dead leaves that fell from ancient trees, as the winds grew colder with a bone-deep chill.

The faint scent of snow was in the air as the dark clouds loomed over the small town in a hazed embrace.

The day was quiet, only the sound of the wind could be heard from outside.

She had just finished breakfast as she went upstairs and headed to her bedroom.

Her schedule for the cast removal was scheduled at 8 sharp.

She was looking for a dress to wear as she looked through the clothes in her old wooden closet.  
Esme didn't quite know what she wanted to wear till she saw that familiar yellow dress again.

The dress she wore the last time she had seen _him._

She quickly put it on and walked to her white dressing table. As she sat down she took a glance at her reflection as she did several times in the past, her mind deep in thought.

She felt like there was something missing.

She never really stopped to consider whether she was beautiful or not. That didn't really matter to her. As long as she had eyes, nose and a mouth, she was happy.

But then her mind wandered to that night in Dr Peterson's office. The way Carlisle had looked at her, the way he had said those words.

_"With a face like yours, surely you can break any man's heart."_

Even the thought of it, made the blood rush to her cheeks.

Somehow he made her feel, _beautiful_.

A smile escaped her lips as she thought of him. She only admitted this to herself as she sat there, she missed _him._

_"Dearest Diary,_

_I know how foolish it must be for me to think of a stranger this way. But there's something about him that affects me so much. I barely know him, a complete and an __utter stranger, and yet I feel like I know him better than I know myself. I sound absurd yes, I know. But it's like the night time__,__ even though it's darkness you are sure of the dawn that would soon follow. If there was only a way I can see him again. If there was only a way I could speak to h-"_

"Esme? Esme! We're going to be late, we have to go dear."

Her mother's voice echoed like a banshee as she called out to her daughter.

Esme quickly closed her journal and hid it together with the handkerchief underneath her pillow as she ran out of her room and down the stairs at full speed.

"Sorry Mama, I—I…was . . . reading." She replied gingerly as she took a pause to catch her breath at the foot of the stairs.

"Alright dear, but I do wish you would stop running, it's very unladylike."

"Yes, mother."

She replied quietly.

Both her parents and Esme took a leisure walk that day to Dr Peterson's office.

It was one of those idyllic days where nothing seemed to go wrong. Her father and mother were walking behind her as they exchanged stories and jokes. A smile formed on her face as she caught a glimpse of her father kissing her mother on the cheek.

_I wonder what married life would be like for me someday._

Her parents had walked ahead of her when she froze in her steps.

It was the sidewalk where he had kissed her.

She stared at it as the memory replayed in her mind, fresh and clear. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel his lips against her skin so softly.

"Esme? Sweetie, where are you?" Her father called out to her.

"Coming!" She called out as she ran up to join them. She kept her face hidden low beneath her caramel hair to disguise the blush in her cheeks.

Dr Peterson's office was reasonably small and smelled like tobacco most of the time, with his large books scattered on his desk. The walls were painted a cream white and were sensibly decorated. The only speck in his office was that narcissistic condescending secretary of his named Vivian.

Esme would cringe at how ingratiating she could be.

She was about 5"6, black hair and blue eyes and wore too much face powder which made her look older than she really was, she was only 22.

As they entered, Vivian was there to greet them as she ushered them in to Dr Peterson's office.

Esme sat on his examining table as the old doctor rummaged through his drawers for his medical scissors.

"Esme." Her mother said as she whispered into her daughter's ear.

"Your father and I will need to buy upholstery; will you be able to make it home by yourself?"

"Of course, I'll see you later then Mama." Esme replied with a small smile.

"See you later, sweetie." Her father said as he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. She watched them as they both exited the room.

She could hear Dr Peterson mumble under his breath as he scratched the crown of his head in frustration.

"Do you need any help Dr Peterson?"

"No, it's quite alright." He replied blankly as he searched the other drawer.

"Aha! There's the little critter."

He walked over to where Esme was and gently started to cut off the layers of the cast.

"You're very lucky. Not a single stich." The old doctor said as he proceeded with the cutting.

"Yes, I know." She replied as she remembered Carlisle sitting in the chair across from Dr Peterson's desk, talking to her, his eyes staring into hers intently.

An idea was forming into her mind.

"You know Dr Peterson, it was such a shame Dr Carlisle couldn't stay long." She said as her eyes narrowed on the floor.

"Who? Ah yes, the young Dr Carlisle. Smart boy, that one." He replied as he concentrated on his work.

"Dr Peterson?" She spoke, the words barely finding their way into her mouth.

"Yes?" The doctor replied, as he looked at her through his heavyly rimmed glasses.

"I'm afraid Dr Carlisle left something quite important when he visited my house, when he fixed my leg."

"Is that so my dear?" A puzzled expression came upon the doctor's face.

"Yes, and I think he may need it someday." Her heartbeat was accelerating.

"Well, if that's the case, you should give it to me child. I shall mail it to him myself."

That was _not_the answer she was hoping for.

"Oh no, Dr Peterson. I should do it myself, he did leave it in my house, and I should take responsibility for it."

She held in her breath for the answer.

"Very well then. You can get his forwarding address from Vivian." Dr Peterson replied as he removed the final layer of cast.

Esme swore her heart was about to erupt with euphoria.

"Thank you, Dr Peterson."

"Not at all, child. Off you go now then." He replied as he shuffled back into his seat.

As she stepped out of the office, she knew what she had to do next.

Esme took a glance at Vivian who was lazily thumbing through a book and took a pause before she approached her.

_This is it. I swear that woman could be the 3 headed Cerberus or the Minotaur in the labyrinth._

As Esme began to approach her, she thought of the old Greek myth about a certain beast depicted as part man and part eagle who told riddles and would devour the unlucky souls who failed to solve its conundrum.

Esme gathered her strength and cleared her throat.

"Vivian?"

"Yes?" She replied with an arched eyebrow.

"Dr—Dr Peterson told me that I could get Dr Carlisle's forwarding address from you." The words felt as if they were stuck in her throat.

Vivian let out a laugh.

"What does a child like you want from a man such as Dr. Carlisle." It was a statement rather than a question.

Esme stood there, thinking hard.

"Well, he left something at the house when he came over to fix my leg. Mother told me to get the address so she can return it to him personally."

Vivian looked at her with a smile that made Esme uncomfortable.

"What a sly lie you are, Esme."

"I-I"

"What could he possibly see in you? You are nothing but a child." She spat out the last words with venom.

Esme could feel her face redden.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hit a nerve?" Vivian teased.

"I'll tell you what a man like Dr Carlisle would want. He would like a _woman_, a woman with beauty and endowments _you_will never possess. You're just a waif, an ingénue. It would even be amusing to think that you'll look that way forever." Vivian said as she stood up and arched her back. She looked at Esme with a smirk.

Esme stood there, silently quivering. Helpless anger filled her. She fixed her eyes on the floor.

"Alright, fine. You can have his address."

She walked over a wooden file cabinet and took out a piece of paper, and handed it to her.

Esme took it but Vivian gripped the larger part of the paper. Their eyes meeting like daggers.

"I don't expect you to thank me bu-"

"Then don't." Esme replied, cutting her off.

Esme reached a breaking point. She grabbed the piece of paper as she smacked the secretary hard across the face as it propelled her hard onto the ground. Vivian glanced up at her, holding her burning cheek, she couldn't believe what just happened.

"What's going on here?" Dr Peterson said as he gave a quick look from inside his office.

"It's okay, Dr Peterson, Vivian fell." Esme said quietly, as she threw Vivian a quick glance.

"Oh! Vivian you should be more careful next time." Dr Peterson said out loud before he closed his door.

Esme bolted out of the office and ran across the street. The wind was in her hair as she stormed her way home. _That felt good_. She thought to herself. Mirth lighted her face as she ran with all speed across the open plains. She was finally going to speak with him again. Delicious warmth pulsated in her body as she sailed towards home with all speed.

Finally she reached her house. The house was still empty when she arrived, but she barely noticed it anyhow. She ran up the stairs and headed straight to her bedroom. She shut the door closed and remained there for the rest of the afternoon.

It was 5 minutes past midnight.

She hadn't eaten, but she felt no hunger. She felt tired, yet she was wide awake.

She spent hours upon hours of constructing the perfect letter to, _Carlisle._

Her bedroom floor was filled with scattered crumples of paper. She was on her bed, on her stomach using her enormous math textbook as a firm base to the letter she was writing.

After several hours and 3 more sheets of paper crumpled later, she was finished.

She quickly placed it in an envelope and signed the address.

_"St. Joseph hospital. _

_442 3rd Avenue. _

_New York City. _

_Room: 401. Dr Carlisle."_

Esme realized for the first time that she didn't even know his last name.

She read it once more to make sure she had gotten the address right.

The house was completely submerged in darkness, the only light that could be seen was from her bedroom window. She quietly tiptoed out of her room. She took a pause and scurried to her parents bedroom door and listened, she could hear the snoring from the inside. _Dead asleep_. She thought to herself triumphantly, as she made her way down the stairs.

Now the only thing standing in her way was the front door. She squeezed the doorknob and slowly pushed it open, she cringed as the old door made a squeaking noise.

Good thing the mail box was conveniently attached to their house, right next to their front door. She opened the door another 5 inches wider. Esme slid her entire arm out and felt her way through the mouth of the mail box.

Another 3 minutes later, she finally got the letter in.

_Yes!_

Esme laid on her bed that night. There was a frenzied excitement in her stomach. It was a long while before she fell asleep.

She waited a good 2 days before she received a reply.

It was early morning. Esme could hear footsteps out on the front door. She took a peek through her window and saw the mailman; he had just left their front porch. She was still dressed in her night gown as she ran down the stairs barefoot and grabbed the letter from inside the mail box.

She wasted no time in getting back inside the house as she climbed the stairs and went back to her room, shutting the door behind her close. She sat on her bed, she was brimming with excitement.

She stared at the envelope.

She was confused.

It was her _letter._

There was a stamp on it that read. _"Return to sender."_Esme felt her heart breaking.

She flipped it over to find a note stapled to it.

Curious, she tore it off the envelope and read its contents.

_"Dear Mrs/Mr_

_Dr __Carlisle has left St. Joseph hospital 2 weeks ago._  
_He has been reassigned to Forks, Washington. I'm sorry to_  
_inform you that he has left no current forwarding address._

_Best of wishes,_  
_Paul Turner M.D"_

Esme sunk back into her bed, the heaviness of disappointment seething into her heart.

_Carlisle, how shall I ever find you?_

**A/N: Whew! another chapter just for you guys :)) Thank you for all your lovely reviews! they mean a lot to me :) stay tuned for an update, God Bless and keep reading! Another big shoutout of thanks to my beta reader Jucy Sam :) she's awesome XD**


	6. Mystery Gift

It's amazing how time travels.

The way it moves.

How it can only move forward, never looking back.

How some nights seem to last a lifetime and yet, gone with the merest whisper of day, arising from the black depths of oblivion. It's interesting to think that something so light and beautiful can come from such a spectre of darkness.

Two years had passed since Esme had met Carlisle.

She was now blossoming into a fresh young adult.

Though unaware she may still be of her appearance. She was indeed, _beautiful_.

Her lovely face had the consistency of the first day of summer with the delicate blush and dimples in her cheeks. And the warm brown eyes that held the glimmer of a young woman's innocent curiosity._  
_

She was no longer the wild and unkempt child she was, when she was 16.

She had become tamed.

Or so people thought.

But that was only an illusion that she liked to portray when it was needed.

Whether it be to placate her high-strung mother, or whether it be to exude propriety for the sake of _social_etiquette.

She kept the side of her that was riveting, vivacious and free as the wind carefully hidden; to protect it from the derogatory attacks of modern society.

But as soon as she knew no one was looking, she would be herself again.

Free to dream, free to discover, free to taste the sun on her lips as it sets across the sapphire sky.

That was something no one could ever take away from her which was her fiery determination, and her honest thoughts and ideals, untainted from square minds and people with their narrow visions of life.

Esme's graduating ceremony was held at the town square, on a sunny Tuesday afternoon in May.

It was much of a spectacle within itself. It seemed as if the whole town had crammed themselves into the little town square to wish the new graduates warm congratulations. Everywhere she looked; it seemed like a tidal wave of people bustling about with well wishes and kisses. Everything else felt confusing. The day was extremely humid, and the heat had no intention of breaking as a bead of sweat slid down her face.

The students began lining up on the stage to receive their diplomas. She was standing next to a fellow classmate as she looked out onto the sea of people. She could see her mother and father smiling at her as she gave a little wave.

She felt a little nervous about the conversation she was going to have with her parents the day after.

Esme knew that after today's festivities, tomorrow would be the proverbial _sit down and talk_about what she was going to do after she graduated.

But that wasn't going to be a problem. She knew exactly what she wanted.

And it was to become a teacher.

She had it all planned out last night.

Esme was going to go west to pursue her studies. She would get into a good college and after that work as a teacher.

She knew in her heart that she had so much to offer, and what better way to encourage people who were younger than her to pursue their dreams, than by teaching?

It was a good plan.

Now it's only a matter of convincing her parents.

After what seemed like endless hours of speeches, smiling, waving and polite murmurs of thank you and congratulations, the event came to an end promptly at 5 in the afternoon.

They drove back to the house in comfortable silence; the summer heat had finally broken with gentle breeze in the air.

She was still dressed in her white graduating gown as she walked up to the large cream coloured house.

She stopped as she noticed a familiar white Rolls Royce parked out near the driveway. She could feel her stomach constrict.

_Oh God, please no._

Her parents ushered her in the house.

As she stepped into the living room, she found a smile form on her lips that she did not like. In fact, it was more of a wince than a smile.

There was a banner that had been spread out with the word '_Congratulations' _on it.

"Mrs Robinson." Esme said in a small voice.

"Esme dear! Congratulations." Mrs Robinson said as she went up and smothered her in a suffocating hug.

"Thank you."

Esme turned to her father for help, but he exited himself into his study room.

_Great, now I'm stuck in the never-ending vertigo of gallurous talking. Help . . ._

She looked around to find pastries and tea that had been carefully laid out on the table.

_This is going to be a long night._She said to herself as she looked at her mother and Mrs Robinson made themselves comfortable on the sofa.

Esme noticed a young man sitting in one of the easy chairs near the fireplace. He seemed to be engrossed in a book that he was reading.

"Esme dear, why don't you pour yourself a cup of tea and join us?" Her mother said as she served Mrs Robinson a plate of cookies.

"Yes, of course. But I really should change first, shouldn't I mother?" Esme asked her voice hopeful.

"Yes. Please do dear, change out of that awful thing. But do hurry; there is someone Mrs Robinson wants you to meet." Mrs Platt replied as she sat back down.

"Alright."

Esme took one more look at the mysterious young man at the sofa. He had caught her gaze as he gave her a warm smile which she returned.

She quickly climbed up the stairs and headed to her room.

Blessedly, she was alone for a few minutes.

She went over her bed and plunged herself onto the mattress.

Esme closed her eyes for a moment.

She felt a gentle breeze enter her window.

_That's odd; I swear I closed that before I left._

She opened her eyes and heard something infinitesimal drop to the floor.

She walked over to the window and shut it close. Esme then crouched low onto the floor, whatever it is that fell it had managed to roll underneath her bed.

She reached out a hand and patted the floor trying to feel whatever it is that was under there. Finally she stumbled upon something. It felt like a round circular package that could just easily fit within the palm of her hand. She took it out and examined it.

The package was covered delicately with blue-violet wrapping paper and tied up with a white ribbon.

She took it with her as she sat back on the bed.

It had no note, or letter with it.

It seemed to be some sort of graduating present. _This is for me?_

Curious, she untied the ribbon and took off the lid. There, nested in white silk at the centre, was a delicate gold necklace, with a small yet very lovely intricate heart pendant. A soft gasp escaped her as she took it out. It was beautiful.

Lavish yet understated. It could be easily concealed underneath her clothes.

She quickly put it on; the heart pendant shimmered as she gently touched it with her fingers.

_Who could have given this to me?_

She felt a wave of curiosity as questions began to pile up in her mind.

"Esme? Esme dear, we are waiting for you."

Her mother's voice echoed through the cavernous corridor from downstairs.

"Coming!" She replied.

She quickly took off her outer clothing and rummaged through her closet. She took out a simple floral embroidered dress and quickly put it on.

She took a stop at her white dressing table and ran a brush through her wavy caramel hair and neatly tucked the necklace inside her dress.

She hustled down the stairs and stopped halfway as she took in a breath and composed herself.

As she entered the living room the young man was there standing next to her mother, a smile on his face as she entered.

"Esme dear, there you are."

Mrs Robinson quickly grabbed her by the wrist and almost pushed her next to the young stranger.

He was quite tall. He had dark brown wavy hair, and brown eyes that seemed always ready to smile and a nose that was slightly turn up.

"Esme, I'd like you to meet Charles Evenson."

**A/N: Once again thank you for all your kind reviews! Please keep em' coming :D I LOVE to hear your thoughts and comments :) always remember story suggestions are welcome :) and as for a certain question that a reviewer asked me, I can't reveal any hints as to what the next chapter may contain. That would spoil the surprise, but efharisto for your kind words ;)**

**Stay tuned for chapter 7 and God Bless!**


	7. Clipped Wings

It was late into the afternoon.

The familiar scent of freshly cut grass was in the air.

The little town was slowly coming to life underneath the blinding glare of the sun. The quaint buildings and dainty houses neatly covered in myriad shades of pastel coloured paint, as its people roam through its concrete sidewalks resplendent yet subtle and simple in appearance and amicable in pleasantries.

Esme had the, what her mother and Mrs Robinson considered _pleasure_in spending the lovely summer's afternoon with Mr Charles Evenson for a walk into town.

And in most cases of her young adolescent life, _against_her will.

You could say she was sort of_ pushed_ into the situation or as Mrs Robinson described it with such finesse, _absolutely ecstatic with excitement_.

In reality, she felt like she was about to go to the gallows.

They had been walking for a good 3 hours, her pink parasol giving her cool shade from the harsh sun.

Charles had been at his most charming the whole way through. But it seemed that Esme was the one who did most of the talking.

He seemed quiet, _reserved_. And you can never quite tell what he is thinking.

When she would speak, he would look at her in the most peculiar of ways. It wasn't exactly, provocative or strange per se but there was something in that man's eyes that unnerved her.

They decided to take a little break as they reached the town park.

Esme walked ahead of him as she found a nice wooden bench underneath a large oak tree with its large branches outstretched, providing a significant amount of shade from the heat. She watched as he took the seat next to her.

He was dressed in a simple brown suit and tie. His hair brushed neatly away from his face.

A stranger could say he is handsome. With his youthful good looks, you could say he is harmless in fact. But for some odd reason, she had the feeling that she had to be wary around him.

He was looking out across the park. There weren't that many people that day just a few that were scattered densely around the area.

She took this chance to study him silently. In the brief moments she had spent with him, he seemed kind and courteous. But there's something in the man's character that she couldn't quite understand. She can't place her finger on what it was.

"So, Mr Evenson-"

"Please, by all means, call me Charles." A smile playing on his lips as he turned to look at her.

"Alright. Charles, how is it you came to know Mrs Robinson?" Esme asked as she fidgeted slightly with her white gloves.

"Mrs Robinson is my Aunt's cousin." He replied as he toyed with his bottom lip.

"I see. Where are your parents?"

"They died several years ago, never had the chance to even meet them." He replied casually.

She tilted her head slightly in confusion.

"How do you mean?"

"I was only 2. You have to forgive me, I can't quite remember much.  
My Aunt and my parents including myself were on this boating excursion en route to visit an old friend of my parents.  
Unfortunately the boat had an accident and sank halfway there. My Aunt and I were the only survivors. It was my Aunt who explained to me what had happened when I became older."

He replied quietly, as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"I...I'm so sorry. That must have been hard on you." She replied as she leaned back into the wooden railing.

"It's alright, that happened a long time ago." He said as his brown eyes locked on to hers.

She felt squeamish under his gaze.

"So, Esme. Tell me more about yourself." He asked, his eyes probing.

She let out a small chuckle to relieve herself of some tension she had been holding.

"I've already told you everything there is to know."

"I don't think so. I read a long time ago that women hold an ocean of secrets within themselves." A smirk forming on his face, as he rested his chin on his knuckles.

She felt taken aback. Her mind instantly recalled the handkerchief underneath her pillow.

"Oh Charles, that's silly. What secrets could a girl like me possibly keep?" She replied as her eyes wandered to the far left corner of the park.

"You tell me." His tone had gone serious.

"There's nothing. Honestly." She replied with a small smile, as she saw him shrug slightly.

"Is there anyone, you are seeing? You know. . ."

She realized he was sitting uncomfortably close to her by now. She knew exactly what he meant as an image of Carlisle's face flashed through her mind.

"I don't quite understand what you're talking about." She lied.

"Come now, don't play coy. You can tell Charles." He teased.

"There isn't anyone. Really." She replied as her eyes narrowed.

He gave a small nod.

"Did anyone tell you, you're beautiful Esme?" He said with a smile.

Soft mirth escaped her lips.

"Does flattery usually work?" She asked, half joking.

"If it's the only way to see a face like yours every day, then yes."

He covered her hands with his.

She felt her heart skip a beat. Things were moving way too fast.

"So, you are living with your Aunt?" She asked, fighting to keep the nervousness out of her voice.

"Yes, only to finish school and my training." He replied as he withdrew his hand from hers.

_Thank God._

"Training?" She asked bemused.

"For the army, I'm going to be a general someday." He replied, confidence in his voice.

"Sorry to disappoint you general, but I'm a pacifist."

He gave out a smile laugh, flashing white teeth.

She felt her cheeks redden with the next words he spoke.

"Then, I suppose you believe in making love and not war." There was a taunt in his voice.

The conversation had started to get a little too personal.

"I think, it's time perhaps for us to go. It's getting late, and mother hates me to be home after curfew." She replied quietly, as she gingerly grabbed her parasol and stood up.

She saw the expression on his face, as his lips parted.

He was about to say something but changed his mind.

"You're quite right. I believe there's a storm coming." He nodded at the dark clouds in the sky as he offered her his arm and she took it.

The rest of the walk on the way back to her home was spent in pensive silence. The air was humid and thick.

She walked up the familiar wooden front porch steps, the floor creaking with each step.

"Would you like to come in for some tea?" She asked, but before a reply escaped his lips the front door opened.

Her mother and Mrs Robinson busted out the door, an air of camaraderie between them.

"Esme, dear. Your home quite early." Her mother turned to look at her as Mrs Robinson walked over next to Charles.

"I had to get her home Mrs Platt, there's a storm coming." He replied quietly, a small smile on his face.

"Why isn't that sweet of you Charlie." Mrs Robinson said as she patted his back.

"We should get going Joan; I'll call on you next week for the rest of the details." Mrs Robinson said to Mrs Platt

"Alright Mae, Take care now." Mrs Platt replied as she walked her friend to her car, leaving Charles and Esme alone together.

"Well, this afternoon has been most lovely Ms Platt." He replied with his best gentleman smile as he took her hand and kissed it lightly.

"It's my pleasure." She replied with a smile.

"Charlie dear! This car won't drive itself." Mrs Robinson called out from the passenger seat.

Esme watched as Charles started to walk towards the car. He turned to her one last time as he gave her a wink and entered the driver's seat. She shook her head in amusement as she watched them drive off into the distance.

She entered the large house and proceeded to the stairwell.

Her mother followed a few moments later.

"Esme dear, your father and I have something we would like to talk to you about." Mrs Platt said, calling out from the living room.

Esme let out a small sigh halfway up.

She made her way down once more as she headed to the living room.

"Have a seat dear." Her mother motioned to the crimson red velvet sofa.

Esme entered and set her parasol and gloves next to her seat as she made herself comfortable. She saw her father enter a few moments later.

She watched as her father take a seat opposite her in one of the old easy chairs as her mother meticulously pour tea into the delicate china cup.

Esme suddenly remembered what she wanted to tell her parents. She felt nervous as she tapped her foot on the wooden floor deep in thought.

"Here you are dear."

She handed Esme her cup of tea as she took a seat next to her daughter.

There was something different in the air.

She took a sip quietly, the taste lingering in between her lips.

"Dear, your father and I want to tell you something very important." Her mother began as she nodded to her father.

"Yes?" She asked as she set her cup on the glass table.

"Well since you have graduated-"

"Oh mother! Yes, I know what this is about. You're asking me what I'd like to do after I graduated correct?" Esme said cutting her mother off.

"No dear I-"

"No mother, it's quite alright. I already know what I'm going to do. There's nothing to worry about. I'll simply extend my studies to college. I'm going to be a teacher Mama, isn't that wonderful?"

Esme said as a smile lit up her face.

Her mother wasn't smiling.

"No Esme."

She could feel her heart drop to her stomach.

"I don't understand." Esme said a perplexed expression on her face.

She watched as her father stood up and walked up behind to her mother, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Just tell her Joan." He said.

"Tell me what?" Esme asked.

The room felt was beginning to feel enclosed.

"You're staying here and marry Charles Evenson." Her mother said plainly.

The words felt like a bombshell.

"What?"

She felt her throat go suddenly dry.

"But Mama, what about my studies?"

"You're going to visit Mrs Robinson every Saturday for your lessons." Her mother replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"What am I supposed to do there every Saturday?" Esme asked feeling helpless.

"On your _new_lessons of course. She will teach you, literature, class and culture, and by the time you get married you will be just the perfect wife, smart and sensible. That woman has practically a library in her house. You can read all you want, it's as good as a college there, and you can learn a lot from her." Her mother replied with a warm smile.

"But Mama, I want to be a teacher. I don't want to get married right away, Mama I don't even know if I love him." Esme pleaded.

"Don't be impertinent, Esme." Her mother snapped.

"You should be pleased. Charles Evenson is the most eligible bachelor in town. And he has a wonderful academic record with his school. He's handsome and charming, what more could you possibly want?" She said as she took a sip from her drink.

"Mother please. I don't want to marry just yet; I want to go to college. Dad? Please." Esme pleaded once more as she looked at her father for help.

"It's best for you." Her father replied reassuringly.

"Mother?"

"The decision is final."

"But...you're not even letting me decide for myself." Esme said as she tried to reason with her mother.

"Esme, I don't want to hear another word. I _know_what's best for my daughter." Her mother said as she threw a look at her.

She couldn't, she wouldn't believe it. She just can't.

_This can't be happening._

She felt like she was being backed up into an emotional corner that she had no escape of. The only thing she could do was claw at the walls but what good would that do?

She ran out of the living room and up the stairs.

Esme entered her room and slammed the door shut. She leaned on the door and slowly slid down to the floor, her face wet with tears. Her dreams of freedom were being crushed to a pulp, with its juices served as a refreshing drink for strangers to taste.

She slowly stood up and dragged herself to her bed.

She buried her face into the pillows as she let out a scream.

_"Dearest Diary,_

_My dreams of freedom have been replaced within the confines of a fixed marriage._

_Fixed marriage._

_Even the words themselves feel like a prison. I don't even love him. I swore to myself a long time ago, that if I did marry, it would be for love. Not for a life of conformity._

_I feel so helpless. I'm usually the one who fights with all I have, but what are the odds of an army against me?_

_I feel suffocated. I've been bound and chained. And I'm not even sure if there is a key to my chains._

_How could I possibly fly if my wings are clipped?"_

Esme's tears stained the pages of her diary as she wrote. She never felt so betrayed in her life. Her parents were supposed to love and support her.

_How could they do this to me?_

She thought of Carlisle.

This marriage would definitely be the barricade that will forevermore prevent her from seeing him one day.

But there was hope. There was always hope.

_He's still out there. . ._

She grabbed his white handkerchief and held it close to her chest as her tears flowed like rain into the night.

**A/N: Whew! Here's a long chapter for ya guys :) I hope you like it :D an update won't be too far behind so stay tuned ;) keep reading and keep reviewing! :) they make my day brighter :3 thank you to all my readers, God Bless and sit tight for chapter 8 :)**


	8. Loving Thee, My Heart is Thine

The decision had been set.

Their decision. Not _hers._

The mysterious destiny that awaited her future was snatched from her like a child from its cradle. Her only freedom dissolving with the rain, as it splatters onto the cold uncaring ground, disappearing from the face of the earth for all time.

She was in a glass box.

Her life being lived for her.

She spent the first 2 years of every Saturday of her newly acquired adult life under the strict tutelage of Mrs Mae Josephina Robinson.

She was a force to be reckoned with.

The seemingly docile yet giddy woman was as tenacious as a mountain lion. She was short and stout in stature with large green cat-like eyes that missed nothing.

Her first year under Mrs Robinson's tutoring felt like the battle of Troy.

Mrs Robinson started with the basics such as, poise and music.

Esme hated it.

She didn't quite like being told how to walk, when to walk, and how to position your shoulders when you walk.

And good gracious, when she sat down during tea and Mrs Robinson saw that she wore no stockings, had a fit that lasted for an hour which reminded Esme of the volcano Mt. Vesuvius that vomited lava onto the defenceless town of Pompeii, as it burned everything in its path, burying Pompeii in a blanket of volcanic ash.

_For goodness sake._

_I feel like I'm walking a tightrope between a hailstorm and jagged rocks._

_How could you possibly win?_

The worst was yet to come.

As the year progressed, Mrs Robinson introduced her to music which meant, playing the piano.

Heaven have mercy on the child that was being taught by a neurotic perfectionist with a thick wooden ruler.

By the time her lessons were even halfway done. Her fingers and knuckles would be covered with bruises.

She would sit there and play the piano with the best of her ability and would bite her bottom lip in anticipation to the beating her fingers would take at the slightest slur of the melody or finger.

She would even wonder during the long nights in her bed, how she managed to get through every single day with that woman, mentally unscathed.

Her lovely chains which consisted of embroidered silk napkins, white gloves and silk stockings, afternoon tea and the endless ocean of mundane books and the dismal lessons meticulously laid out for her. All her longings of freedom were denied.

In the arms of a stranger, she could not escape.

She was slowly being dragged lower and deeper into the earth.

The faces she saw every day. Empty yet alive. Talking in words she could not understand, her ears straining to comprehend.

Their breath as they spoke, smelled of stale mint and teeth filled with crumbling pastries.

She felt like she was like some ragged doll that they would play with as they dressed her up and dressed her down and passed her on to the next child that wanted to play with her.

They were the giants she had feared as a child.

Domineering and enticing, with their warm smiles feigning reassurance as she is lured into their web of cotton and pearls.

Asking her with benign eyes to stay in the web forever.

They looked at her from outside her glass box. Making assumptions and conclusions. Deciding what _her_fate would be.

There was no way back.

The days were dreary and long.

The nights seem to drag on endlessly into the dark recesses of space.

Another 2 more years pass.

Precious time melting away like ice in the sun.

The final preparations have been made.

The date had been set.

This was the point of no return, as her sentence is made.

Charles had present Esme with her official engagement ring the year she turned 22.

It had been past 5 in the afternoon.

He was visiting her home that day.

They were scattered across the large cream coloured living room area. The day outside was gloomy and sullen.

The moment he opened the box, Esme could hear her mother and Mrs Robinson squeal as they rushed over to her nearly spilling the teapot on the way to coo at the ring. She watched silently as her father approach Charles with a large smile and playfully patted him on the back.

She stood there, frozen and detached.

A wan smile on her face, as he slipped the ring on her finger. He didn't even bother ask why she was so silent the whole week, none of them did.

She stared at it for a long time, as Charles placed an impersonal kiss on her cheek.

The ring had been set in platinum with a single pea-sized diamond in the center, it glistened slightly as she turned it from side to side, the rays of light from the stone reflecting in her solemn brown eyes. The reality of her situation was setting in. The ring seemed to be a sign of the dreaded wedding she was to have.

She found herself being dragged onto the plush velvet couch as her mother handed her a glass of champagne.

She watched the scene playing out in front of her indifferently. An observer rather than a participant.

Her father happily opening a fresh new bottle of wine as he chatted jovially with Charles.

Esme's eyes travelled to the left corner of the room.

The loud boisterous laughter of her Mother and Mrs Robinson as they talked out the details of her wedding.

_It might as well be their wedding._

She sunk back into her seat as her eyes narrowed onto the deep mahogany wooden floor.

She could hear the clinking of the champagne glass against her ring in her finger. She found herself gripping the glass quite harshly.

The voices in the room seemed to grow louder by the second.

And the words seemed nothing to contain but one all-consuming syllable.

_Wedding._

She wanted to scream.

Finally after what seemed like hours of drinking and gaudy descriptions of how the wedding would be, the day came to a close.

She didn't bother to say goodnight to anyone nor did she bother to excuse herself. She just quietly slipped out of the living room, unnoticed.

She knew her mother would cough up a reasonable excuse anyway, that was sweetly smothered in powdered sugar and icing.

It was only past 7, but she was exhausted.

She closed the door of her room quietly.

Her room was quite dark due to the storm clouds that had been building outside.

She walked deftly to her nightstand and lighted the oil lamp, which provided a hazed silhouette of her room, illuminating the dark corners of the cavernous walls and ceilings. She didn't want all the lights turned on in her room, she just couldn't be bothered with people at the moment. She wanted to be alone.

She quietly undressed, the murky light catching only vague traces of the soft contours that outlined her delicate hips as she changed into her nightgown.

She untangled her hair from the accursed bun that she was forced to tie it into.

She shook her hair free as the waves of caramel locks frame her lovely face.

She lay on her bed and curled up close to her nightstand table as her eyes found their way into the yellow light, dancing as they reflected into her brown eyes, her companion in the embrace of darkness.

Her soft hands found their way underneath her pillow as she slid out the handkerchief from its hiding place.

Her gentle fingers twirling the ends of the soft cloth.

_Carlisle_was never too far from her mind.

How could she even begin to forget the man whose face haunts her dreams ever so tenderly?

_If only I could see him again. . ._

She held his handkerchief closer to her chest as she closed her eyes.

It was a long while before she could fall into a peaceful slumber, her mind, restless as the sea.

It was the dead of night, the stars shining in dark abyss above.

His unbeating heart in intoxicating pain, knowing this well may be the last time he can see her again.

That lovely face with the blush of roses, in which his hands so longed to touch.

He had fought valiantly over the years, keeping a hidden distance in the secrecy of night.

On a secluded hill a few yards from Esme's home, a man was standing there. His face covered by the shadows, as the moon's haunting light traced the outlines of his golden eyes.

They say the mind is a powerful thing, and that even if the person is asleep, the mind is wide awake.

She was walking that fine line between asleep and awake.

Her body and conscious mind were sleeping. But another part of her was awake, dormant within her subconscious.

She stirred in her eiderdown as a cold wind brushed past her.

She could smell a familiar yet faint scent.

It smelled like something of cinnamon laced with another tantalizing smell that she could not put a name to.

The room had grown completely still.

Faint footsteps could be heard, faintly creaking the floorboards every so often as the sounds grew nearer.

He had to see her once more.

He was not ignorant as to what lay in store of her.

He knew exactly what hand fate had dealt her with.

Yet he could not bear to leave her in peace without seeing that face to which his soul aches for. That face which pierced his still heart so sweetly.

Her breath stopped for a moment.

She could feel the right side of her bed give weight to someone sitting there.

Her eyes were slowly moving left to right. She was fighting to wake up but sleep held her firmly by the wrist.

She could feel something cold yet soft brush her cheek ever so gently.

He whispered something in her ear in a voice so tender and barely above a whisper.

He could see in the light illuminated from her lamp as her eyebrows knitted together in distress.

Even in slumber, pain seemed to cross her lovely features as a tear escaped the corner of her eyes.

He shook his head as he took in a breath. The sweet scent of her hair brushing delicately against his nose. He was fighting to keep his resolve as he whispered something to her once more, as he ran a gentle thumb across her cheek.

He had to say the words. The words to which were spoken from the lips of his very soul.

The tension within her melted away at the sound of his voice but was replaced with the wrenching desire of longing at his words.

A feeling he knew all too well.

He had to leave. If he stayed too long, he knew he could no longer fight with himself. With the desire that was beating, screaming from within his soul.

He looked at her once more. Looking like a mere child in all its innocence, wrapped in a gossamer blanket of a woman's heart.

He gently took her hand, and untangled it from the handkerchief that once belonged to him.

Tenderly raising her soft fingers to the concaves of his delicate lips as he kissed them.

He closed his eyes as the warmth of her skin radiated onto his lips.

If only surrender could be so sweet.

If only, the world wasn't against, both of them.

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm so super sorry for the semi-late update haha! I got whisked away by my Grandad to the beach this morning. But anyhow, I hope you enjoy this chapter :) Keep em' reviews coming! Thank you all again for reading :) God Bless :) Oh and here's a little treat for you guys out there. As I said before a couple chapters back, I don't give out hints as to what the next chapter may contain. But at least the emotional feel of it I can elaborate a bit, BUT only a little bit :) I suggest you guys check out the song Thinking Of You By Katy Perry. Pay close attention to the ending and the lyrics, it's like super heart-wrenching. Got choked up a bit listening to it, haha. Sorry for the long blab XD Enjoy! stay tuned for chapter 9 :)**

**Oh and to a question a reviewer asked me, yes, Charles is Esme's fiancee sad to say D:and Thank you very much again for your kind words, efharisto XD that's the only greek word I know, that and kalimera haha!**

Oh and If you guys are wondering what Carlisle whispered. I suggest you read the title AFTER you finish reading. XD


	9. Dreams Of White

Wedding.

Wedding day.

_Her _wedding day.

A wedding day, is usually the most euphoric day of a woman's life.

For Esme, this wasn't the case.

During the early hours of dawn she had awoken from her sleep, terrified at the events that lay ahead that day.

Then promptly at 5 in the morning she was snatched from the comforts of her bed and thrusted into the awakening reality, that was her wedding.

The organized chaos began to unfold as a tidal wave of people started to enter her home. It almost felt like half of the town was in her house, filling every single corner of space that was left. All of them hustling about, each of them seemingly on a mysterious errand as their voices filled the large home with reverberating echoes of what was to be done.

The morning air was sharp and piercing. Cold and unforgiving, the groggy clouds stumbling out of the sky to make way for the fiery sun.

Esme stood in her room as a group of 7 agile people worked around her.

She was practically half asleep as they fitted on her wedding dress, which of course her mother had lovingly chosen _for _her.

It was quite simple in design, but was gruelling in detail. The dress consisted of delicately embroidered crystals and pearls. You had to move a certain way to make sure not to upset the fragile decors. It was ridiculous; she could even hardly breathe in the darn thing. The fabric was made of pure silk, which made the dress extremely humid and stifling.

She fought to stay awake as she felt a prick of needle brush her skin lightly as the seamstress adjusted the dress from her back side.

Another lady, who hovered over Esme on a small wooden stool, was busy fixing her hair into the proper amount of curls as she neatly twisted her hair into a neat bun.

Esme felt like she was going to explode.

She felt like her hair was being ripped from her skull and that her skin itself was being sewn into the dress.

She didn't feel happy, at all.

She hoped so desperately she would. Somehow to ease her circumstance, but how can anyone be possibly happy in her situation?

A woman is supposed to feel the most beautiful during her wedding day.

But how can she possibly feel beautiful?

She didn't feel even remotely beautiful, she felt like a freak.

Finally after what seemed like hours that seemed to elongate itself into half a century, they were finished.

The women excused themselves as Esme watched them exit the room.

It was an hour before the wedding.

She looked every bit of a blushing bride, standing there in all her loveliness. But the sadness was evident in her eyes.

She stood there feeling lost, not quite sure what to do with herself.

She slowly walked to her white dresser.

Esme slowly lifted her eyes and stared at the stranger looking right back at her.

Had she changed that much?

It seemed so.

Her eyes that once burned with such vital force were now silent and wary.

Her skin a little pale from being indoors, yet still retaining their rosy blush.

She was still the same. Yet she was not.

She let out a heavy sigh as her fingers found their way to the heart pendant which she still wore underneath her clothing.

Her heart was breaking. She felt powerless.

She walked over to her bed and took out his handkerchief, as she did several times in the past when she felt most alone. She leaned her head against the bed post as she held the cloth in her hand. The thought of him was excruciating. The pain sweet with longing as her soul called out to him in silent screams.

Her heart begging for him.

Begging for the kind stranger who had stolen her heart.

Begging for him to come back and return it to her.

_God help me, I love him._

She whispered as warm tears fell onto the handkerchief.

Nothing could prepare her for the wave of pain that filled her chest as she ached so desperately for him.

Her thoughts were interrupted with a soft knock. She instantly shoved the handkerchief back to its hiding place and wiped her face dry with her sleeve. She quickly tucked her wrist behind her back to hide the wet stains on the silk cloth.

"Enter." Esme said in an even tone. Control hiding the quiver behind her voice.

Her mother entered all dressed up and ready for the wedding, as a smile lit her careworn face at the sight of her daughter.

"My dear, you truly have grown up." Her mother said with moist eyes.

Esme gave her a small smile.

She motioned for Esme to sit on the bed as she took a seat next to her daughter.

Esme avoided her mother's eyes as she narrowed them down to the floor.

An awkward silence in the air.

Her mother let out a sigh, as a tear escaped the corner of her eye.

"I...I know this hasn't been exactly easy on you." Her mother started to say as she blinked a tear away.

Esme sat there quietly, listening to her words.

"I...I'm sorry...I'm sorry that I didn't give you the choice you deserved to have." She said as her voice started to break.

"But, I had to do what I thought was best for you." She said finally. Desperately pumping strength into her voice.

"Haven't you ever stopped to consider Mama, whether or not I would be happy?" Esme replied, without looking up.

Her mother had no answer.

Mrs Platt looked at her daughter as she took Esme's hand in hers and held them firmly.

"Esme, Esme look at me." Her mother asked.

Esme slowly turned to look at her, a steady gaze into her mother's own eyes.

"I want you to know that I love you very much. And that your father and I...your father and I won't be alive for a long time, we are already old. You're young, and I just...I just don't want you to end up alone." Her mother said as her face contorted into a frown as tears streamed down her cheek.

Esme's heart felt deep sadness at the sight of her mother in tears. She knew what she had to do; she knew she wasn't going to like it. But her mother held a special place in her heart. She knew the word_ 'No'_was out of the question. She loved her mother too deeply to refuse her.

She slowly stood up and wrapped her mother in a warm embrace.

"I love you, Mama."

Mrs Platt never knew whether or not she had made the right decision.

She only did what she thought was right for her daughter, as her mother did before her.

The storm clouds outside were starting to break. The sun's rays lashed through the heavy blankets fighting its way through the heavy depths of cotton sea.

The drive to the town Cathedral was fairly instantaneous. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the dress was just far too stifling, and the fact that she had to have very little movement was torture. She wasn't exactly the type who was able to sit still for a long while, she was the type that was restless and moving. This dress was suffocating her body to a point where she felt like a mummified corpse.

Esme was blessedly thankful as a breeze passed by her when they took a turn to the right, down the familiar street en route to their destination.

The sun was shining brightly now, the weather, just perfect for a wedding.

As they drove on, the large white Cathedral was in sight. A small group of people gathered outside its open doors.

Esme felt nauseous with anxiety.

There was no one there to hold her hand.

No one to tell her it's going to be alright.

No one to tell her whether or not this was right.

No one to ease the turmoil in her heart.

Esme stood there behind the closed doors of the church. The sun shining down at her. She could feel the heat beating down on the nape of her neck, as she clutched the bouqet of flowers in her hand.

Inside the wedding fanfare was beginning.

She felt like she was on tenterhooks.

Everything was set, everyone was ready. There was no turning back.

The large wooden doors opened.

A sea of expectant faces turning to look at her, every one of them and their faces, plastered with a smile.

Her father took her hand as he placed it neatly on the crook of his arm as she began to step on the edges of the aisle.

"You look beautiful sweetie." Her father whispered.

"Thank you Daddy, I love you." She whispered right back.

"Love you too, sweet pea." He replied as he gently covered her hand with his.

The flower petals were scattered across the white carpet, as they made their way slowly down the aisle. All eyes on her.

The walk towards the altar felt like a lifetime to Esme.

She fought with all her might, but the thoughts were coming to life with their own strange rhythm. Beating it's emotions into her veins and into her heart.

_Carlisle._

With each step she took, she could feel a piece of herself break.

Her pain masked by the long transparent veil and her smiling veneer.

Each step, bringing back his memory with such a vital force that touched the very core of her.

That face to which her heart beats ever so softly for.

Each step, with his voice ringing clear in her mind, the voice to which she could spend a lifetime listening to. Not bearing a second to even part with.

Each step, his words replaying in her mind. With the familiarity of an old song she had never listened to, but knew by heart. His smile to which she longed to touch.

Each step, his eyes flashing like the golden sun. In the eyes of the man her soul weeps bitterly for. Her heart forever in exquisite agony of longing.

She knew she loved him, she knew she will never stop loving him.

It was only a matter of waiting when time would smile down on her.

But now the pain inside of her threatened to burst.

_Carlisle._

_Carlisle, please._

In her mind she was pleading, begging him to save her from the destiny that awaited her.

They had reached the altar.

The priest started the ceremony.

The room was hushed, as gazes fell on the couple that was standing in front of the large altar.

But she couldn't hear the words properly. Her mind was constantly wandering to Carlisle.

She could vaguely see through her veil, Charles smiling at her as he stood there in his best suit.

Esme closed her eyes.

_Carlisle,_

_I don't want to love anyone else._

_But you._

_Only you._

She confessed in her mind silently as a tear escaped the corner of her eyes.

His face.

His memory.

The only thing keeping her from sinking.

The church had gone completely quiet. The priest was looking at her expectantly.

The old priest's thin lips parted as he spoke once again.

"Do you, Esme Ann Platt, Take this man Charles Evenson. To be your lawful wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse. As long as you both shall live?"

This was it, this was the moment.

"No." She said, firmly. She looked at Charles with fierce tenacity. "I'm sorry Charles, I don't love you."

She could see in a vague distance as she turned to look at the sea of people, her mother had fainted.

Charles Evenson's mouth hung open, he was utterly flabbergasted.

At that very moment the church doors bursted open, the doors slamming to both sides with a crash. Her heart stopped, only for a sweet moment.

One look at the man who was standing there and her heart twisted in sweet ecstasy.

She ran with all speed from the aisle as all eyes followed her.

She crashed into his arms as he enveloped her in a desperate embrace.

She held his face in her hands, her eyes streaming with tears of happiness as she looked into his eyes, smiling at her.

He gently lifted her veil as he placed a soft hand on her cheek, wiping her tears away with the bare skin on his thumb.

"I was dying...I just wanted you to burst through that door and, and..." Her voice was breaking as she stammered for words.

"Esme. . ." He said breathlessly as he leaned his forehead against hers. Her name all the more sweeter as he said it.

"I love, you." He whispered.

She leaned in closer to him. Their lips only inches apart. Their breaths, softly intertwining.

She could feel the strength in his arms tighten around her waist as he gently pulled her closer to him.

Their hearts thirsting.

And only their sweet lips could quench the barren wasteland their hearts have been trapped in.

A crack of thunder had woken her up from her dream. She shifted slightly in her bed, her heart filled with deep sadness. A sob threatened to escape as she swallowed the feeling back down. Desperately trying to get a hold of herself.

_If only it wasn't a dream_. . .

She glanced at Charles who was sleeping next to her.

She knew she was married.

**A/N: Hey guys! here's chapter 9, I know, I know, please don't hate me. Sorry about the whole dream thing but hey a girl needs to dream right? Hope you enjoy! Thanks so much for reading, keep em' reviews coming! Love you all and God bless, stay tuned for chapter 10 :)**

**Oh and to a question a reviewer of mine asked, actually I came up with the title in chapter 8. That's how much of a hopeless romantic I am. Haha! I was playing with the word 'Love' in my mind and wondered what else to add into it. So I thought of the sappy and soppy old poetic english side of me and that's how I got the title! Haha. :)**

**Again, thank you all very much for your kind words. They mean a lot to me and I just love you all :') Your reviews make me all giddy and excessively high on happiness :D So thank you all from the bottom of my heart :)**

**Hang on tight for chapter 10! :)**


	10. Broken Vase

After a brief and awkward honeymoon in Maryland,

Esme and Charles moved in to their new home a mile away from town, a few weeks into their marriage.

The cavernous mahogany coloured house was situated in an area that was surrounded by nothing but raw and lush greenery. Near some rustic woodland with a nearby crystal blue lake a few meters from the home.

It was just, perfect. Simple yet elegantly decorated, eclectic antique furniture hedonistically scattered throughout the large home.

The first two weeks were quiet and uneventful. The air sombre and silent, steeped in stony and dormant anticipation.

Charles was in his own world, and so was she either of them cautiously wary of the other's presence.

Esme wasn't quite ecstatic about sleeping in the same bed as Charles. She didn't know why, but to her he felt, dominating.

Before they had settled into their new home, Esme had her diary along with the handkerchief surreptiously smuggled from her old home and into her new house by the old housekeeper.

She knew she was married. But she had no intention of parting with that white piece of cloth.

_Ever._

As long as she had it, she knew a piece of him would always be with her.

_Always._

Esme had meticulously searched for a new hiding place for her beloved treasure.

She was sweeping the floor one day when the lock in her gold necklace came off and the heart pendant rolled under the bed.

As she reached out and retrieved the pendant, a loose floorboard came off.

She took it as a definite sign that this would be the haven to her little secret.

That way she could be sure no one could ever find it except her.

Esme was the utmost perfect wife.

Every day she cleaned, swept, mopped, folded and cooked for her new husband, always eager to please as she lovingly tended to him.

But for some reason, things felt no different to her than when she was 16. Except now, she's living with a full grown man, a full grown man and a house that came with dreadful chores.

Her beloved husband, the stranger.

Even during the early days when Charles had courted her, Esme knew still so very little of him. And even now that they were married, there was no difference. She always had to anticipate what he was thinking, so that whatever came out of his mouth, she had either a solution or a plan.

And Charles, like Mrs Robinson, was a perfectionist.

Charles spent most of his days at the training camp. His military career was unfolding at such a rapid rate that he was gone for most part of the early mornings, but always came back promptly at 8 in the evening every night.

During those times, Esme was alone. But she didn't quite mind. She was happy when she was just by herself, the sweet freedom that came with being married. She didn't have to answer to her parents anymore nor did she have to answer to Mrs Robinson anymore. She was free.

Sort of.

She still had to answer to Charles though. But he wasn't a problem.

Or so she thought.

As a husband, Charles was simply satisfactory. Rather boring, but bearable.

He was charming and pleasant but dull. And his words always seemed to be ambiguous in meaning.

If the man could speak in riddles, he would.

There were aspects of his personality that seemed mechanical, and other parts that seemed just downright strange.

He had humour, but it wasn't exactly even humour to Esme.

It was a form of inappropriate sexual innuendos.

After their meals in the evening, when she was washing dishes he found it amusing to walk by and slap her posterior.

Among other things, that was the least of her worries.

He was rather short tempered, to say the least.

The summation of their marriage was rather strange and forced, with a side of something insidious in the chemistry from Charles towards Esme.

There was little affection between the both of them behind closed doors.

The most affection they shared was during their honeymoon. A memory Esme had no intention of remembering.

She was thrusted into the adult world completely naked and without an idea even how to begin. Her bare skin unprotected from the sharp blades of reality that surrounded her.

Mrs Robinson spent all those years and lessons, teaching her what exactly?

None of those lessons taught her anything useful, except how to fold your napkin without losing the grace and poise in your fingertips.

_As if that can help me in my situation._

No one can be fully prepared for life.

Life is precarious. Filled with imminent possibilities and the strange distant future that fate has ordained for you.

They lived under one roof but it might as well be separate countries.

Over time, Charles's once charming and solitary mask started to crumble, as his dark nature emerged from the deep and dark corridors of his being.

It first started with him dictating around the house.

Esme's usual hobby to pass the time would be to read in her room, after a long day of cleaning. The book that had caught her heart during those idyllic hours was Romeo and Juliet.

And then sometime during the afternoon, usually on a Sunday, he would come in and inspect her work, and somehow would manage to find something wrong with it.

And without even blinking, he would tell her to do it again.

At first Esme thought he was teasing. But then the intent in his eyes told her that this was not so.

In the beginning she would redo the floors she had just cleaned, without argument.

_Maybe I missed a spot._

She would innocently say to herself. But deep down she knew it wasn't true. She practically grew up cleaning floors. She knew _exactly_ what she was doing.

But as her duty as a wife, she wanted to please her _dear_ husband.

As time progressed he had become incessantly meticulous in his dictations.

He would tell her to wash their laundry using only warm water.

_"It's to get rid of bacteria, dear."_ He would say.

Or those times when he would ask her to remove the dead leaves from the high rooftops of their house.

Not that she minded climbing ladders. Heck she climbed trees. But when she did climb, it would be purely for the rush of adventure and excitement. Not for cleaning ridiculous leaves off the roof. But as always, she swallowed her thoughts and kept them to herself and carried on.

_"It doesn't look sanitary honey. You gotta do it." _He would tell her.

And she would willingly oblige.

The cleaning and sweeping she could take. But the boiling of water and the endless piles of clothes that she had to clean was just unfathomable and arduous, aside from the fact that she had to gather the firewood herself just to heat the enormous pot that resembled like a witch's cauldron was completely neurotic. Her petite arms diligently hanging large bed spreads across the laundry line in the hot sunlight, as she would go back to the house to finish the rest of her work which consisted of more piles of clothes to clean and fold.

She couldn't take it anymore. Even she had her limits.

One night, during a silent dinner she had prepared.

Esme sat across from him, watching him across the wooden kitchen table with observant eyes, as he ate.

She had been debating to discuss it with him, she just had to. She was working her hands raw, she needed a break. Surely he wold understand.

She tucked a hair behind her ear as she cleared her throat.

"Charles?" She softly said as she finished her meal, wiping her soft lips with a table napkin.

"Yes?" He replied, as he toyed with his potatoes. His eyes concentrated on his plate.

"Sweetheart, is it really necessary for me to boil water? Just for our clothes?" She asked as she gingerly stood up and placed her plate in the sink.

Charles sat there. His face thoughtful.

"Yes."

"But dear, my hands. They're bruised and battered. I don't think I can handle everything all at once anymore." She reasoned.

He quietly stood up, his large frame casting a shadow on her delicate face. He walked over to her as he placed his plate next to hers.

"Esme, you don't understa-"

"Charles dear, I can't work this hard anymore. I need a break, my hands are so tender and painful, and you have to understand me." Esme spoke, cutting him off.

Suddenly the air in the room began to grow thin, as it happened within a blink of an eye.

Something in him snapped as he backhanded her to the floor.

She was in a state of shock as her body hit the cold checkered floor, her hair billowing in the air as she fell, her face in burning pain as she looked up at him. Her heart racing as the sour taste of fear consumed her.

"Sweetheart. You have to understand that when a man speaks. You don't interrupt him." He said sweetly as he knelt beside her. She flinched as he tried to touch her face; he then forcefully grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her face close to his as he kissed her cheek.

Esme felt her skin crawl.

She watched him get up and exit the room, whistling.

As if nothing had happened, nothing at all.

This was where it all started.

_"Dearest Diary,_

_He started again tonight._

_I tried to fight him but he's too strong. I think he sprained my wrist. I don't think I could last long if he keeps on doing this to me._

_I'm frightened._

_Frightened for my life. I don't know who I can turn to about this. I've never felt so alone in my life._

_I could hardly see anymore as he struck my face again and again._

_What have I done to deserve such pain._

_Growing up, I've read of fairy tales with such hope that I would one day find the man of my dreams._

_Is this it?_

_Is this the man, all those books so ardently promised to me?_

_Is Charles the prince to whom my parents have sold me to?"_

"_Dearest diary,_

_I can't take this anymore._

_And it had only happened again because I had accidentally broken his favourite brandy glass._

_He had struck me down and kicked me in my stomach. Even as I write this, I'm still quite in pain. There is no one I can talk to. He keeps a watchful eye on my movements and demands to know where I go if I do go out. The worst part is, I don't think mother and father want to help me. I've sent them several letters in secrecy. My heart burning with the hope that they would help me. But the only reply from my mother I got was a month after I sent all those letters. She told me that I should compromise and keep silent, because we do not wash our dirty laundry in public._

_How could she say that? How could she say that to me? Compromise and keep silent? Dirty laundry? That's the only help she could give me? So it's all about appearances then?_

_Smile when you are told to and to just forget, everything?_

_I am not a puppet. I can't just be dragged on like some carcass of an animal left on the sidewalk to rot._

_I'm being strangled by my own screams almost every other night. Charles is ruthless. It seems he takes pleasure in my pain._

_I can't think of a reason as to why he is the way he is. Perhaps he hates me._

_But what on earth have I done to make him hate me so?"_

Her world was slowly crumbling down in ruins.

The glass vase had fallen, as it shatters onto the uncaring floor. Time slowing to a crawl as it descends with a tremendous crash.

The pieces superfluously scattered and tossed about. It's broken transparent body shining brightly underneath the glare of the yellow light. The vivid glistening in it's reflection, resembling frozen tears.

The only thing that kept her from completely falling apart was Carlisle.

His memory keeping her alive. The happiness and pleasure that came when she thought of him.

His face. His eyes. His kindness.

Giving her strength to swim through the storm amidst the tidal waves of pain that lay ahead.

As long as he was out there, she knew she had to keep going.

The breath of hope within her heart knowing that she would one day see him again.

She wouldn't give in so easily.

Each blow she suffered, each slap, each bruise was tempting her to throw herself into the dark and unknown depths of depression.

Telling her to let go and lose all sanity.

To simply dissolve with the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

But inside her, she knew she would fight. Fight to the bitter end.

She would spend her long nights in pain, on her bed curled up into a ball. Her limbs, her body covered in bruises as each move she made pained her. The cavernous walls, her only witness to her injustice.

But defeat would not be her friend.

**A/N: Hey guyss! So sorry for the delayed update. There was so much distraction going on while I was writing this haha. Forgive me? :)**

**To be honest I had a bit of a struggle in writing some parts of this. Just the thought of her being alone in her pain made me feel exactly what she was going through. Anyways haha. Sorry for the long blab. Enjoy! and pleeeeeeeeeease review :) they make my day all the more brighter :) Love you guys! God bless and stay tuned for chapter 11 and another big shout out of thanks to my beta reader Jucy Sam, she's awesome XD**


	11. Little Secrets part 1

Esme was not quite completely alone in her pain.

Sarajevo is the capital and largest city of Bosnia and Herzegovina, with an estimated population of over 321,000 people within its administrative limits.

Nestled within the greater Sarajevo valley of Bosnia are tertiary mountains surrounded by sedimentary rocks of dolomite, limestone and sand which were conglomerated by ancient seas and lakes that once covered the Dinaric Alps. It's dogmatic opulence sits placidly situated along the pungent murky brown waters of the Miljacka River in the heart of South-eastern Europe and the Balkans.

It was a Sunday morning, the air bright and clear with a few clouds lazily sauntered across the ethereal blue sky. 28th June. At approximately 10:45 am. Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife were killed in Sarajevo. Within the capital of the Austro-Hungarian province by a young man named Gavrilo Princip, a member of Young Bosnia and one of a group of assassins organized cunningly by an underground secret society calling themselves 'Black Hand'.

The news of the assassination started to spread like frenzied insanity. As the outrage in Europe, sparks the flames of vendetta and bloodlust as the First World War is brought to ferocious life, resulting in the death of millions.

Charles Evenson is drafted to war.

_"Dearest Diary,_

_Charles is sent away to war._

_I'm feeling quite disconcerted about how to feel._

_A wife is supposed to shed tears of sadness and worry when her husband leaves, let alone sent to war._

_Right?_

_But I can't help but feel a sense of relief at his absence._

_Please don't think I wish him any ill-fate. He is my husband after all._

_But I cannot and will not lie to myself when I say, I feel. . ._

_Happy._

_Free._

_It's as if the whole time he was here with me, he had been holding my neck the whole way through. Preventing sweet air to permeate my lungs._

_It's unkind of me to say, yes, but it's the truth. I can no longer lie for his actions nor lie to myself. It would be the ruin of me, if I continue to do so._

_But, am I such a cruel person if I think of him this way?"_

If Esme could label this period of time in her life, she would call it 'Summer Solstice'

For the days were long and beautiful and the nights were brief yet filled with undisturbed serenity.

Such still peace and calmness enveloped the entire home in a loving embrace that was no longer filled with fear or pain.

The world was at war within itself.

Yet peace managed to waft its way into Esme's domain, and into her heart.

An odd circumstance with the known fact of what was happening overseas.

Still, even _if_ she felt certain feelings of dislike and unconscious vague forms of hatred towards Charles.

She still cared about him.

As twisted and strange it may sound.

Somehow deep inside, she knew he was a broken man. He would die a hundred times rather than to admit that.

But she knew.

His anger seemed to stem from some form of personal inadequacy that she couldn't quite seem to decipher the contents of.

Yes there were moments when he showed emotion. But the problem with him was he took it as a sign of weakness and immediately covered it up with his solitary veneer and slightly mechanical smile and abusive behaviour.

He was a broken puzzle that unfortunately couldn't be solved.

Esme on the other hand, tried several times in the past to understand him.

But it wasn't possible.

If a troubled man wanted help, there's a large chance of him getting it.

If he didn't want help. . .

Well, you'd get Charles Evenson.

Still, ever the kind and loving person she is. She wrote to him every once in a while, just to see how he is. Her caring nature, intertwined with the pen and paper she so thoughtfully used to express her concerns and worries.

His replies however, were vague and few. Somehow the war was affecting him more deeply than she will ever know.

During his absence, Esme started to fully enjoy her time alone by herself.

There was never a shortage of things to do.

And cleaning was not a part of it. Though she kept the house neat and tidy, but in her own way and good time.

She would spend long and idyllic hours on the porch, comfortably seated in one of the old wooden rocking chairs, facing the warm blue lake during a beautiful afternoon as she sipped her favorite tea. Her eyes enjoying the peaceful view in front of her that was vibrantly coloured in soft hues of green and rustic shades of brown as the sun's light delicately played on the water's surface. Sending little coloured lights shimmering in the air as the large trees swayed gently to the invisible rhythm of the wind. The soft sloshing of the water in the lake, providing a soporific atmosphere in the air, as a contented sigh would escape her lips.

On other occasions, she would simply sit in the large living room, on the carpeted floor facing the fireplace, with several books and throw pillows scattered around her as she laid down comfortably on the beautiful disarray. Her delicate face covered by a large book as she softly thumbed through their pages. Her caramel hair and all their soft curls, framing her beautiful face as she runs a hand through the soft mass, slightly toying with the ends as her eyes concentrated on the page she was reading.

Her first year alone in the house was spent in peaceful solitude.

And that was all she could ever ask for.

It was an early Monday morning.

Esme had only just finished breakfast.

She was cleaning the dishes as she hummed happily to herself, when she heard a soft knock on the door.

She tilted her head in confusion.

Visitors were rare and often unexpected.

She took a pause from her washing. She walked out of the kitchen and past the stairwell and on to the front door as she opened it.

It was Mrs Platt.

Her petite frame that was half the size of the door as she stood there with a smile. Her eyes lighted as she saw her daughter.

"Mama?" Esme said, her eyebrows rising. She hadn't seen her mother for quite some time. And it had been a while since she last wrote to her, ever since the _incidents_ started happening.

"Well, aren't you going to invite your dear old mother in?" Her mother chirped.

"Of...Of course..." Esme replied as she shook herself out of her thoughts.

She led her mother through the foyer and into the kitchen as she offered her a seat.

Mrs Platt eyed her daughter carefully as Esme continued to put away the dishes she had been cleaning.

She was wiping her hands with a towel as she placed it next to the sink.

She took a seat opposite her mother, her eyes wary and sombre.

"Can I offer you anything?" Esme quietly asked.

"No, it's quite alright dear." Her mother replied as she averted her gaze.

Esme tucked a hair behind her ear as she watched her mother's face. It seemed to have aged a great deal since their last meeting.

"I...I came here to speak to you about...your last letters..." Her mother began her voice slow and even.

Esme winced, as a memory of the events flashed through her mind.

"Yes? What about them?"

"Sweetheart. You must have been overreacting. Charles is sweet, he couldn't possibly do all the things you wrote he did..."

Esme leaned back into her chair.

"Mother, I love you. But you do realize that I sent you all those letters in a span of 1 month and received a reply more than 5 months later, and you visit me, more than a year and a half later." Esme said quietly. Her eyes watching her mother's in anticipation.

Her mother's lips opened and closed as she swallowed hard.

Esme took her silence as a chance to speak to her blatantly.

"Mother, I want a divorce."

Her mother's eyes widened.

"No, dear. You're not thinking right..." Her mother babbled.

She looked at her mother, feeling helpless.

"Why can't you believe me Mama?" Esme said pleadingly, her eyes welling up with tears.

"You're overreacting. Charles is a good man; he's good to you Esme..." Her mother started to say.

"Mama, why can't you believe me when I say he beats me? You're my own mother. You wouldn't want me to get hurt, but why can't you believe me?" Esme said, her eyes begging.

Her mother was silent. Her eyes focused on Esme.

"You can't have a divorce Esme, it would cause a scandal. If what you say is true, it's just a period of adjustment. He's a good man, trust me." She said soothingly.

"Period of adjustment? Scandal?" Esme spoke, her voice quivering with anger.

"Is your reputation so precious to you? What if my life were in the hands of this man? You'd still ask me to stay?"

"Esme, you don't understand..."

"I understand perfectly. You're not going to help me." Esme said as her voice broke.

"Esme sweetheart, I want to help you...But not with a divorce, it wouldn't be right-"

"Mama, you don't understand. That's my only escape." Esme whispered.

"I can't do that, Esme." Her mother said in a small voice.

She looked at her mother, as if seeing her for the first time.

"I love you mother, but I want you to get out."

The Great War stretches from months into a catastrophic 5 years. 9 million people as its bloodied casualties.

The hazed and battered soldiers finding their way through the dusty darkness of war as they stumble towards home.

Charles Evenson returned home to his wife, later in the spring.

The first few months of his return were unexpectedly peaceful. But there was a daunting silence in the air around him.

He was home more often. Yet he seldom said anything anymore, he seemed silent and withdrawn.

Esme didn't know whether to be frightened or to be scared. In reality those two words weren't quite so different in meaning.

One evening, shortly after dinner.

Esme was cleaning the dishes downstairs when Charles called her from their bedroom.

Her face cringed. She knew exactly what he wanted.

_This is going to be a long night._

She dourly thought to herself.

Sometime during the evening, when Esme was sure Charles was asleep. She took out her diary and proceeded to write into the white confines of paper. The moonlight penetrating their window, as her delicate fingers turned it's pages, ever so quietly. The moon's eerie glow providing her light in the darkness.

After she had finished, she turned to an earlier page she had written when she was 16. As a smile touched her lips at the memories it contained.

Esme was unaware that Charles was wide awake next to her.

A few moments later, she felt the bed go completely still. Which seemed odd. Charles was a restless sleeper.

Her breath caught in her throat as she turned to look at Charles whose eyes were looking right down at her journal. An animalistic expression on his face.

"Who's Carlisle?" He asked, his voice calm.

"He's-He's a boy I knew when I was 16." She explained. Fighting nervousness.

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" He snapped as he kicked off the covers and turned on the light.

"Are you having an affair with this man?" He asked his voice seething with anger.

She felt her throat go dry. Her heart starting to beat rapidly.

"Sweetheart, you don't understand. I had this diary since I was 16; some of its entries are old." She reasoned. Struggling to keep him calm.

He seemed to show signs of calmness as he nodded.

But it was the calm before the storm, as he lunged at Esme like a raging bull and grabbed her diary and tossed it across the room as he smacked her across the bed.

She was screaming for him to stop. But he didn't.

Instead, he opened the bedroom door and went back to the bed and pushed her out as she fell onto the floor with a thud. He then started to drag her out of the bedroom and across the wooden floor by her hair and into the cold dark corridors of night. She was yelling for him to stop. But she knew it was of no use. She could fight all she want. Struggle all she want to no avail.

But Esme was hoping bitterly someone would come to her aid, as she struggled to free herself from his painful grasp.

She screamed once more in desperation.

A scream no one could hear.

A scream in the night.

**A/N: Whew! I actually typed this out all in one sitting! Haha. I know this chapter is a bit extreme, sorry about that but the music I was listening to was really getting inside my head.**

**By the way I have a question for you guys. Has anyone ever watched that re-made 1992-ish version of Lolita? (I haven't watched the movie, just only the 1960s version) if so, have you guys seen the trailer? Because the piano playing near the end is just so beautiful and I'm having a difficult time in naming the title of the piece, do you think you lovely people out there could help me? It would be greatly appreciated :)**

**God bless you all and keep them reviews coming! I'm always excessively high when I read all your lovely thoughts and comments :) Love ya guys! stay tuned for chapter 12 :D**


	12. Little Secrets part 2

Early the next day.

The morning sun ascended gracefully into the infinite blue sky, the golden ball gently bouncing its way past pompous clouds as it frolicked its way into view. It's warm rays greeted the earth with such vitality that every single living organism was riddled with life as the wistful wind wipes away the sleep from their nubile bodies.

The day was excruciatingly beautiful as the light mirrored the fresh dew that was dripping off of the grass as the trees billowed ever so slightly at a passing breeze.

The wide and open plains surrounding her home was filled with light and life; the siren call of the woods which once spoke to her as a child now silently beckoning her outside to join them, asking her to grace them with her gentle presence once more.

The front porch which she sat every so often on her rocking chair in an afternoon's delight now lay empty, with a few leaves carelessly strewn across the seat due to her absence.

The grass untouched by the soft soles of her feet when she used to wander ever so softly with a book in her hand as she sauntered into the woods, without even a second thought or care.

The beautiful wonderland was now an empty vessel without her.

Her soft laughter no longer echoed in the wind. Her soft hands no longer tracing the rough and callous skin of the ancient trees.

The scent of her hair no longer intertwined with the gentle summer breeze.

Amidst all the beauty and loveliness that awaited her outside, Esme was living in a completely different world altogether.

A new war was emerging from the dark confines of her home.

There was no escape from the terror that was about to unfold within the next few hours.

The prelude to its arrival was so thick; you could almost taste it in the air.

She could not escape its clutches. She was trapped within the confines of the cold walls. Like the bright sun, trapped behind the dark embrace of storm clouds.

The once beautiful house in which she tenderly cared for was now holding her captive.

The bland concrete preventing the rays of the sun to comfort her in her time of sadness. Stopping it's warmth from entering the cold and dark recesses of her prison.

Her morning started out with Charles's voice calling her from the downstairs living room, his hoarse voice feigning sweetness as it boomed all the way into the bedroom.

She shifted tensely underneath the sheets, her eyes snapping open; her heart beating wildly in her chest at the sound of his voice. She squinted her eyes as the light from the window filled the room.

She slowly made a move to get up. Her body was sore all over, but what hurt the most was the crown of her head. She gently ran a hand through it, hoping against hope it would ease the throbbing. She slightly winced and shuddered as the memories of the events last night regurgitated into her mind with futile clarity.

She slowly slid off the bed, her bare feet touching the cold wooden floor as she made her way out of the bedroom, bitter trepidation coursing in her veins at the hidden events that lay ahead.

She made her way quietly down the stairs and through the foyer, dressed in nothing but her simple white night gown. Her wavy caramel hair billowing gently at her stride.

Esme took a breath as she entered the living room.

Charles was standing next to the lighted fireplace. He was holding some sort of book in his hand.

Instantly, her mind was shifting into high gear with cold fear.

_Why was the fireplace lighted this early in the morning?_

She was terrified of the answer.

"Ah, there you are my dear." Charles said jovially as he gently ushered her into the room.

He took a large throw pillow and placed it in the middle of the embroidered carpet, facing the fireplace as he motioned for her to sit. Charles stood above her, making her feel infintesimal and defenseless.

She sat there anxiously, feeling as if she were atop a scaffold.

Her merciless executioner deciding wether he would chop off her head or hang her.

He could have easily made her sit on the couch.

Esme could feel the tension rise in her stomach as she steadied herself and tried to stay calm.

But it was impossible to avoid the questions that were in her mind.

_What did he want?_

_Why am I here?_

And the most feared question she dare not ask herself._ What will he do with me?_

She focused her gaze on the fire as it flickered with warmth. Its orange light dancing sporadically as it reflected into her eyes.

She got lost in her thoughts for a few moments before she heard Charles chuckle in the background.

He moved into her view as she looked at him warily. Her heart dropped to her stomach when she saw what he was holding at a more acute angle.

Esme licked her lips nervously.

_No, no, no._

_Please God._

She was fighting panic as it attempted her to lose control completely.

Esme took another breath and composed herself.

Charles's laughter echoed into the room.

"Oh my dear wife. You really are quite the hopeless romantic. Aren't you?" He said with a cruel smile.

Esme watched him as he turned a page.

He snapped the book close as he finished devouring its contents. He walked towards her, his eyes digging into hers.

"No woman can make a fool out of me dear." He said as a painful slap found it's way into her face, her head turning at the force as he repeated his actions a 2nd time.

Warm tears began forming in her eyes as she blinked them away. She turned to look at him as her mouth parted.

Charles raised his finger at her.

"Tsk. tsk. Remember what I said about how rude it is for a wife to interrupt her husband." He said in a daunting tone.

She snapped her mouth shut, as she looked up at him expectantly. Fear, making her weak and trapped in her own body.

He proceeded towards the burning fireplace as he crouched low next to it. A large grin on his face.

Somehow she knew what was going to happen next.

"Since we _are_ married my dear Esme. You're going to have to forget about this pathetic little fantasy of yours. You can change the dates on this diary to decieve me but it will _never _work." His voice, low and menacing.

"Sweetheart, please you-" She pleaded as her voice broke.

"Be quiet!" He screamed at her as he ripped a random page and threw it into the fire.

Esme watched as the fragile paper writhed and crinkled in the fire. The memories with it, turning into black ashes of dust.

"I'm going to ask you once more. Are you having an affair with this man?" He asked daggers in his eyes as he looked at her.

Esme shook her head helplessly as she bit her lip. Tears flowing down her cheeks as she watched him burn another page.

"Why do you lie to me? Don't I give you everything? I've been a good husband haven't I? I teach you and I guide you and this is what you give me?" He yelled as he began pacing back and forth. He shook his fist at her.

She closed her eyes in fear that he might strike her again. But instead she could hear him speak.

_No._

It seemed like he was reading something out loud.

He read in a taunting voice.

"Dearest diary,

Never in my life did I expected to be kissed. Let alone by a stranger I had just met..." He was watching her face closely as he returned to stand next to the fireplace.

Esme closed her eyes as she bit down on the inside of her cheek, to stop herself from saying anything that might make the circumstances all the more worse for her.

As Charles continued reading out loud, Esme was once more transported to the memory of that night. How young and alive she had been. How beautiful and perfect that night was.

Charles could burn that page a thousand times if he wished. But the memory itself was engraved in her heart. It could never be erased. _Ever._

_Carlisle._

She whispered so softly in her mind. Somehow the sound of his name, giving her silent courage.

Her eyes wandered out the window, the fresh daylight was slowly turning into a sour shade of grey.

"Esme! Look at me when I'm talking to you."

Her head snapped back to look at him, her eyes steady.

Charles apathetically threw the crumpled page into the fire as he looked at her once more.

It was as if he was daring her to do something imprudent and impulsive. As if he was daring her to do something so he could have an excuse to strike her down and step on her.

But Esme was not going to give him that satisfaction.

Instead her eyes lowered and her mouth closed.

"We're not finished yet. Far from it sweetie."

Within seconds he threw the entire diary into the fire as he watched it burn with grim pleasure.

Esme fought hard to repress a tear but failed. It slipped out of the corner of her eye as she watched the diary in which she so lovingly confided in, become a dusty remnant of her past.

The pages being ravenously eaten away by the hot flames.

_At least the handkerchief is safe._ She thought to herself quietly.

Suddenly, as if reading her thoughts.

Charles pulled it out from behind his pocket, holding it out in front of her as her eyes turned wide and glossy in sheer fear.

Esme's whole body felt frozen.

"I found your little hiding place this morning." He said with a boyish smile.

"At first, my objective was to destroy that delirious diary of yours but then, I was looking for my bedroom slippers you see. Then finally when I found it, I hadn't realized my elbow had accidentally knocked off a loose floorboard in the process! Lo and behold I found your little secret. I must thank you though; I've always been a fan of intrigue and secrecy. But you can't hide it away from me forever sweetheart. I _always_ find out." He said with a complacent tone.

He proceeded to walk towards the fireplace.

Esme closed her eyes in defeat. Knowing that she had lost the battle.

But then her conversation with Carlisle replayed itself into her mind.

_"Promise me you'll take care of it." He said softly to her._

His golden eyes, silently watching her.

_"I promise." She replied sincerely._

She stood up abruptly, renewed courage within her.

_God give me strength._ She prayed silently.

There was only precious seconds to spare as she moved to Charles's side and snatched the cloth from his hands.

But before she could rejoice in her brief victory he pulled the cloth back with immense strength.

They were facing each other. Her eyes burning with rage as she looked at him.

Their hands locked on either side, in a deadly game of tug of war.

"What do you think you're-"

"You're a horrible husband...You think you take good care of me...You don't!" By now Esme's voice was shaking with uncontrollable anger. Her hands gripping her side of the cloth tighter.

"You beat me senseless, you use me like a ragged cloth that you can just wipe on the dirty ground. How dare you! How dare you do all the things you did to me, you think you could just go on forever taking and taking!" She spat out the last words with disgust.

"I hate you!" She blurted out through gritted teeth. Suddenly all her pent up emotions were bursting out like a floodgate.

"I hate your smell, I hate your touch, I hate how you've taken away everything from me. Everything!" She screamed as angry tears flowed down her face. Charles stood there frozen at her words.

Without warning and with surprising strength Esme managed to rip the handkerchief in half as she ran out of the room as fast as her slim legs could take her. Charles in burning rage as he pursued her across the house.

Her feet were pounding on the steps loudly as she ascended the stairwell, the taste of panic on her lips. She knew Charles was just a few feet away when. .

Esme had slipped, sending her body crashing onto the hard wooden steps. She looked back, adrenaline kicking in at the sight of Charles gripping her ankle. His face red with anger.

She tried kicking but he was holding her in a grip so tight, she felt like he was cutting off circulation in her ankle.

He began dragging her towards him as she screamed.

He was sitting on top of her as he tried to backhand her across the face, his heavy weight was crushing making her legs useless as she squirmed underneath him, but only this time Esme fought back. Rebuffing his blows with her fists as she tried to get him off of her.

The struggle seemed to drag on as the minutes stubbornly refused to move. But miraculously Esme had managed to slide up her leg as she kicked him hard in the groin. He rolled over in pain as he gasped and screamed, cursing after her.

Esme awkwardly stood up and ran with shaking knees to the bedroom.

She quickly closed the door behind her and grabbed the chair from her dresser and jammed it into the doorknob.

_That's not enough._

Without thinking she quickly ran to her dresser and swept off all of it's contents, sending them crashing and tumbling to the floor as she pushed the wooden furniture towards the door. After several minutes, the door was completely blocked and barricaded.

Esme spent the entire day in the bedroom. Not even coming out to eat. Not even uttering a noise or a sound.

She sat at the far right corner of the room, her knees curled up to her chin. She was still shaking violently. Like an aftershock of a volatile earthquake. She kept staring at the door, half expecting him to burst in like a madman. The fear she felt at that moment was bone deep. She closed her eyes, willing the world to disappear

She hadn't realized she was still clutching the torn half piece of handkerchief in her hand till the soft strands of thread tickled the skin on her finger. She opened her eyes as she unravelled it from her hand as she allowed a soft sob to escape her lips...

_I can't live like this anymore._

Somewhere within the walls of a large stoic mansion, esoterically hidden by the dark blankets of the large forest trees.

A man was facing the window of his study room. The lighted fireplace providing a blurry silhouette of the tall figure that stood in the darkness.

Flashes of thunder brought the dreary dismal skies to life with a vociferous outcry as the earth trembled in fear.

The rain started to fall like tears from the sky. Stray droplets sliding its way onto his window.

He watched with golden eyes as the rain took on a life of it's own, quietly pulsating as each drop reverberated into his ears with renewed clarity.

As lightning flashed into his view once more, the image of her face seemed to conjure together with it.

He took a breath to steady himself as the rush of emotions that her memory contained swept over him in fission of both warmth and pain.

The distances and years took it's toll on his unbeating heart.

He longed to see her once more desperately.

Though brief and few were their meetings, he could _never_ forget her. Somehow the absence of her in his life made him long for death, for a sweet escape. Yet knowing that she lives, he could not dare part with that face. No matter how long it took till he sees her again.

He closed his eyes as the last memory he had of her played out clearly in his mind.

_Her beautiful face. The sweet warmth in her skin._

His lips parted slightly as a whisper escaped his mouth.

_Esme._

_****_**A/N: Hey guys! I'm so sorry for the late update, pleeeeeeeeeeeeease forgive me? I've been feeling under the weather the last couple of days and had to take cough medicine. Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter ;) I threw in a little Carlisle in there for you lovely people :) and thank you for all your reviews :)) PLEEEEAAAAASSSSSEEEEE keep em' coming! I LOVE hearing all your lovely thoughts and comments :) Love you guys! and God Bless ;)**

**Stay tuned for Chapter 13 weow! KEEP READING! XD**

**Oh and as a reward for all your kind patience :D here's a hint to what the theme of chapter 13 may contain.**

**Try listening to ODE To Joy by Ludwig Van Beethoven, then tell me what you guys think ;)**

**Keep em' reviews coming! :D**


	13. Ode To Joy

The Latin word 'Fugio' contains the meaning of 'to flee' or 'Effugi Effugiturus' to flee from.

The meaning in these words all came back to one simple English syllable.

Escape.

The last few weeks felt like the longest years in her life.

Shortly after the events that took place the month before, a cold war was waged between them.

For some strange reason, a new height of tension arose from their midst.

Charles kept a cool distance from her ever since that day and Esme kept hers.

By now everything was laid out on the table, black and white.

Charles sensed the silent feral anger that Esme contained towards him and retreated in a temporary ceasefire.

They no longer spoke nor made eye contact.

The conflict between them was undeniable. And Esme made it clear that she was no longer going to be the victim.

Which placed Charles at a horrible position. He was no longer in control.

He could feel it in his bones.

Esme's plan took exactly the half of the month to complete.

Since Charles was beginning to spend more time away from home on some mysterious excursions, it gave her more of a vantage point as to what her next move may be.

She sent out a secret letter to her cousin in Wisconsin, explaining the nature of her dilemma.

Now it was only a matter of waiting for her reply.

A reply that would determine the ending or beginning of a new horizon.

She received a reply no less than 5 days later.

Her decision had been made.

Now it was down to a matter of the correct time and place.

Charles was home that rainy Saturday afternoon.

He was comfortably seated in the living room reading the newspaper while she worked in the kitchen.

As she finished washing the last plate she took a pause and inhaled deeply. Her right hand slightly gripping the edge of the sink as her left hand found its way softly onto her belly. Esme caressed it slowly, sliding her fingers gently.

She knew now that she had to escape, not only for her sake, but for the sake of the new life that was forming inside her.

Esme secretly knew she was pregnant.

Even before the signs could be detected. She _knew_.

Her ever growing belly she kept hidden underneath her dresses. But she knew she couldn't hide this precious secret forever. She had to leave before the signs could be even more evident.

She looked at the window and noticed the rain had stopped pouring. But the cumulus clouds were still there, gathered at the centre, hovering over the town in an ensconced embrace.

She bit her lip.

Everything was already set. It was only a matter of time to set the wheels in motion.

She already had the train ticket she had underhandly purchased yesterday morning, the little piece of paper ruffling in her pocket ever so quietly as she gave it a slight squeeze to release her tension.

She swallowed her breath and headed to the living room to face the proverbial 'Dragon' for the last time.

The train was due to leave at 3:30 pm.

It was already 2:00 sharp. Time could _not_ be wasted. _This has to work._

She slowly approached the familiar room with ease. She saw Charles's leg sticking out into view as the lower half of his body sprawled out lazily onto the carpeted floor. The upper half heavily slouched into the easy chair as his face was covered by a copious amount of newspaper.

Esme stood quietly a few meters behind the chair. She could hear the familiar rhythm of his breathing.

"Charles?" She called out softly.

He turned to look at her blankly from his chair.

"What is it?" he said gruffly.

Esme was tempted to fidget with her hands but forced them to remain still.

"Dear, we ran out of eggs. I was wondering if you could be a darling and fetch us some from the market?" She replied, praying that he would not notice the slight shiver in her voice.

He eyed her cautiously.

"In this weather?"

"The rain stopped. You might as well get them for me; you'll have nothing to eat for breakfast tomorrow." She reasoned quietly.

He stood up from his seat as he tucked the newspaper under his arm. Charles walked right up to her and looked her in the eye as if silently scrutinizing her.

It took all her will power not to break under his gaze as an image of the packed suitcase that was hidden in her closet popped up unbiddenly in her mind.

She could no longer take it when her lips spoke sporadically.

"Is there anything wrong?" She asked raising both eyebrows innocently.

"No, nothing at all. I won't be long." Charles replied casually as he walked past her, exiting the room.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Esme allowed her body to go limp with relief.

There wasn't a moment to lose.

She peeked from behind a window curtain as Charles got into the motor-car and swiftly started to drive away. She had to make sure he was out of sight before she could proceed.

There was something odd about him today.

It's as if he's moving in a slowed pace. _Too slow_ for her liking.

She knew him long enough to know when he's suspecting something. And she had no intention of lingering in that house any longer for him to figure her out once more.

The clock was ticking away in the living room; she could still see him out in the fields. She tapped her foot impatiently as she continued to watch him. After what seemed like an eternity in a minute, he was out of sight.

Esme quickly bolted up the stairs and into the bedroom. She quickly uncovered the suitcase she had packed from the mountains of clothing she had hidden it in inside her closet. She quickly descended the stairs and grabbed her wallet she had concealed behind the grandfather clock that was situated next to the fireplace. There wasn't much in it, barely a hundred dollars but she didn't care.

Her goal was now within reach. Now all she had to do was grasp it.

As she stepped out of the house, the storm had renewed itself carrying howling winds with the cold rain.

She was soaking wet within minutes.

Esme knew she would never forget this day.

She made her way out the front door and past the porch and started walking rapidly, the rain tumbling its way onto her body as she clung tightly to the suitcase which only contained 3 pairs of dresses.

She was practically leaving with nothing but the clothes on her back.

As she crossed halfway into the open fields, she stopped and craned her neck. Taking a last glance.

The house stood there defiantly. Impervious to the rain, a dark speck amidst all the greenery surrounding it. Yet it was as if the house itself was solemnly bidding her goodbye.

She pried her eyes off of it as she started to run, delicious warmth spreading through her body as her legs soared gracefully over the soggy grass. She didn't want to linger a moment longer as she gained speed. Like a ship setting sail into the infinite blue seas, it's majestic flag raised high to the heavens as the wind shared it's breath into it's sails. Giving it, it's wings.

The train station wasn't very far from where she lived.

Ironically it was a kilometre and a half from her home.

But she didn't mind running all the way there, not at all.

She was alive again; she could feel it as her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Urging her, screaming at her to go on further into the mysterious distances that lay ahead. To flee from him as far away as possible, and to _never_ look back in fear.

And she never did.

Finally she had arrived.

She took a pause as she leaned on a wooden post to catch her breath. Her hair was in wild disarray; her cheeks a vivid flush of pink and aside from the fact that her dress was extremely sodden and crinkled. She shook her head as a soft laugh escaped her lips. She couldn't almost believe she had pulled this off.

The train's whistle pierced through the sharp cold air. The people around the station started to gather up in front as they started to enter the train. She was in luck; there were very few passengers that day.

She got in line with the boarding passengers, patiently waiting her turn to hand over her ticket to the conductor. She took a glance at the sky; the storm clouds were slowly melting away as vague traces of sunlight pierced through the dark cotton like a sword.

She had made it just in time. Esme gave a quiet prayer of thanks as she quickly handed her ticket and proceeded to ascend the train just as it was about to set off.

She had just only made it to the first step of the train when she felt a large and painful hand grasp her shoulder. Terror shot through her when she turned and saw Charles trying to yank her down from the train.__

This can't be happening.

By now the train was already starting to gear up for full speed as the shocked conductor tried to detach Charles's painful grasp off of her.

"Have you gone mad, man! Let the woman go! You're going to get yourself killed!" One of the conductor's assistant yelled as he tried to pry off Charles's hand.

Esme shook violently as fear tried to intercept her body.

"No woman leaves me." Charles hissed into her ear as he moved his hand to her wrist, clasping it painfully.

The train was moving faster and he was still clinging on to her like a leech.

_There has to be a way out of this_.

She had to take matters into her own hands now.

Esme caught his gaze one more time. As he looked at her, she vowed that this would be the last time he would _ever_ see her again.

She felt fear slowly leave her body as she raised her foot and flung it at him with all strength as she kicked him off of her.

She watched in delighted bewilderment at her own strength as he rolled onto the concrete floor of the train station.

She swore she could hear Beethoven's Ode To Joy playing inside her head as the train moved faster and away from _him_. The last thing Esme could hear before Charles dissolved into view was him screaming that he would find her again.

_Let him try._

The sun was finally out of the dark. The air was sweet again as it laced her nose with the smell of dew.

The kind conductor and his young assistant helped her to her seat.

"Are you sure you're alright Miss?" They both asked in coincided unison.

"Yes, believe me I'm quite alright. Thank you, thank you for your kind help. I-I don't know what I would have done." She replied with a thankful smile.

They both nodded as they politely excused themselves from her presence.

The seat that she was in was situated next to a window. Her dress was no longer sodden but was quite in a state of dishevelment, she smiled sheepishly knowing how rugged she looks. Esme ran a hand through her caramel locks as she scooted closer to the window. She watched with moist eyes as the familiar town she knew was slowly disappearing into the long distance behind her.

Her heart somehow felt a sense of sadness yet was overflowing with enlightened euphoria.

She sunk back into her seat. Breathing the air around her, as gentle rays of sunlight caressed her face.

She was free.

_We, are free._

She quietly whispered as her soft hands rubbed her belly through the soft fabric of her dress.

She closed her eyes and kept still as a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Her heart was no longer beating alone.

Esme's cousin lived near the Wisconsin countryside, 2 kilometres away from town.  
Like her rambunctious cousin, she too loved nature.

Her name was Cathy. She was a lovely suntanned brunette with dark eyes who shared Esme's love of reading and art. She was sort of the 'Black sheep' in the family because she was the only one who wasn't married; it was also due to the fact that she refused to be latched on to a life of domesticity. She had nothing against it of course, but her strong will and honest remarks made her reputation quite the scandal during that time.

But deep down she was the kindest person Esme knew. And she loved her like a sister.

Cathy came from a well to do family thanks to her father being a prominent business man. Cathy's mother however passed away while giving birth to her. Something that her father never quite recovered from, which resulted in his passing shortly after Cathy had turned 18.

She inherited her father's wealth thereafter, but lives a life of understated modesty.

Esme arrived to her home a few hours later and was welcomed with open arms.

As Esme hugged her cousin she couldn't help but hold back a sob as tears escaped her eyes.

She couldn't even remember the last time she had felt at home.

Cathy took her suitcase and placed it in one of her guest rooms upstairs.

Her home was spacious yet comfortable. Nothing luxurious, but everything a simple and good home needed.

"Em!" Her cousin fondly squealed as she came back running down the stairs and lunged herself at her cousin in another embrace.

"It's far been too long." Cathy said as she held Esme at an arm's length. Brushing a lock of hair out of her cousin's face.

"I know. . . " Esme said quietly.

"Come let's sit by the fire." Cathy gestured with a smile.

They both walked to the pale pink living room that was filled with porcelain knick knacks, snow globes that were filled with intricate figurines along with colourfully embroidered tapestry that was leisurely strewn across the furniture and hung on the walls. They exchanged excited giggles on the way as they both made themselves comfortable with a good warm cup of tea.

After they had gotten their little conversations out of the way. Her cousin gave Esme that familiar look of _'What really happened' _without even uttering a word as her dark brown eyes fixated onto hers.

"I-I don't really want to talk about it." Esme said averting her gaze.

"Em, if you ever need to speak to me about it, I'm always here." Cathy said as she gave her cousin a light squeeze on the shoulder.

"Thank you Cat. But right now..." Esme sank back into her seat as her voice broke. Her eyes threatening to well up with tears once again.

"I can't...I can't talk about it just yet..." She whispered.

Her cousin nodded understandingly. "It's alright, you don't have to explain anything. You are here now, and that is all that matters." She said as she watched a smile form on Esme's lips.

"Cat, I have a secret." Esme said, changing the subject. A mischievous glint in her eyes.

"What is it?" Cathy replied excitedly as the light in the fire sparkled in her eyes.

Esme nodded down at her belly.

Cathy cocked her head slightly as her eyes widened at the notion.

"You mean?"

Esme nodded.

"Oh my goodness!"

Cathy smothered her in an excruciatingly tight embrace as Esme giggled excitedly in her arms.

She pulled back from their embrace, her smile never wavering from her lips.

"How long has it been?" Cathy asked.

"Hmmm." Esme pursed her lips slightly in deep thought, her caramel hair turning into a deep shade of reddish gold due to the light of the fire. "I think 3 and a half to 4 months."

"Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" Cathy asked, as she pounced eagerly close to her cousin.

Esme let out a laugh she had been holding as she softly shook her head.

"It does not really matter. As long as the baby is healthy and well, I can't really ask for more." She sighed dreamily as she rubbed soothing strokes on her abdomen.

She looked at Cathy when she spoke her next words.

"Would you like to be the baby's Godmother?" She asked, an impish grin lighting her face.

"I'd be more than honoured!" Cathy exclaimed.

They chatted aimlessly for more than 5 hours. It was the most fun Esme has had in over a long while. She couldn't even remember the last time she had laughed out loud. It was definitely one of the most happiest times in her life.

As their conversation progressed, Carlisle's name unbiddenly slipped through the conversation. Without any planning or forethought.

Esme was describing the first time she had met him. Actually it was the first time she had mentioned him to _anyone_ at all.

"He had this beautiful eyes, you see..." She said, her eyes fluttering bashfully as the memory resurfaced into her mind.

"I couldn't stop staring at him. He was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. . ." Her heartbeat began to quicken at the mere memory of him, his voice clear as day when she remembered it.

"I don't know where he went after that night. I never did see him again." She sighed dourly as she sank deeper into her seat. The spark in her eyes dimming ever so slightly. The fire, cackling in between her words.

Cathy sat there patiently as she listened to Esme talk.

"I never could forget him, his kindness was immeasurable. It seemed when I thought I did finally forget him; his memory would come back rushing at me, rather chasing me to be honest. It's like I can't escape the very thought of him." She said as her breath constricted slightly in her throat.

"I don't think I even _want_ to escape his memory." She conceded.

Esme snapped herself out of her thoughts when she heard Cathy chuckle beside her.

"Oh shush!" She said defensively as she playfully shoved her cousin on the shoulder.

Their laughter died down after a few moments and rested on contented silence.

"You know," Cathy said as she slightly twirled a finger around her dark locks. "He sounds a lot like Dr Cullen."

Esme's heart skipped a beat. She had never even learned Carlisle's last name.

Her eyes widened as she turned to look at her cousin.

"What?" Her cousin asked, slightly bemused at Esme's expression.

"Who is Dr Cullen?"

Esme was beginning to feel this tingly feeling at the pit of her stomach.

"Well, he was this Doctor I met who treated me for an embarrassingly bad case of the flu last year. Em you wouldn't believe it, it was shortly before I could even take that excursion to Europe! Dr Cullen conveniently came and took over temporarily for Dr Marshall. Oh Em, did you hear by the way what happened to him and his wife last Febuary? I heard that-"

"Wait, Stop!"

Esme's head was throbbing slightly.

"Cat, be an angel darling and tell me one thing at a time first?" Esme asked sweetly as she gently rubbed her temple with her right index finger.

"Oh, I do apologize Em." Cathy said as she smiled shyly. Her nose slightly crinkling as mirth lighted her eyes.

"So you were saying about Dr Cullen, what did he look like?"

"Hmmm. If I'm not being too subtle. He was probably, singularly the most attractive man I've ever seen." Cathy cooed.

Esme laughed. "Alright, you've made your point Cat. On to a more descriptive title of the man please."

Cathy turned slightly pink.

"Tall. Blonde. A face that could mostly launch the 2nd world war. Figuratively speaking. It's a crime to possess a face such as his."

_That's him, It's him!_

"I can't believe it." Esme said, feeling a little out of breath.

"So Dr Cullen is this man Carlisle?" Cathy asked.

"I think so." She replied unsurely. Her mind thinking hard.

"How long was he here for?"

Cathy waved a deprecating hand in the air.

"Oh you wouldn't believe it Em. That man is like quicksilver, He works fastidiously and is extremely thorough and the next thing you know he disappears!"

"How do you mean?" Esme asked raising an eyebrow.

"He might as well be a phantom. He was transferred to a new hospital the day after I had met him. Like you, I never saw him again." Cathy replied as she shrugged her shoulders lightly.

_Gone again._

Esme thought to herself quietly as she settled back onto her seat. She took a sip of her tea and felt the warm fluid slide down her throat.

_A phantom he might be._

**A/N: Another Update for ya guys! Thanks so much again to all who read and reviewed. And I DEEPLY apologize for the delay, the house got a little hectic the last** **two days. Anyways, I LOVE you guys so much! Please keep reading and reviewing, I love to hear all your lovely thoughts and comments. Stay tuned!**

**Chapter 14 won't be too far behind :D**

**Please review :D they make me excessively high on happiness ;)**

**A big shout out to my awesome beta reader Jucy Sam! :D**


	14. Run to Ashland part 1

Esme and her cousin Cathy were in a world of their own.

And for a long while, Esme forgot about the terrible past and all it's awful memories.

Yet like a recurring virus, some of it's memories came back to her unbidden.

But she refused to allow herself to be consumed by her unrequited emotions of her past.

She had a bright future ahead, and that was all that matters.

She and her _child._

The two women would spend hours on end _trying_ to cook succulent meals with recipes from a French cookbook Cathy purchased weeks after Esme arrived.

It was a complete and utter catastrophe.

But aside from the tragedy they had created in the kitchen, it was one of the loveliest days she will always look back on with a grateful smile.

Fortunately after some persistence, they did however manage to create a savoury and sinfully indulgent Cherries Jubilee.

"1 15 oz. can pitted dark cherries. 1 tablespoon corn-starch. 1 tablespoon lemon juice.  
1/4 cup sugar." Cathy read aloud as she brushed a hair out of her face._  
_

Esme walked up behind her to peek at the book.

"Sounds simple enough." She said, nibbling on her bottom lip lightly as she stared into the bottom part of the page.

"Homemade vanilla ice cream!" Cathy screamed.

"What's wrong?" Esme asked, her eyes widening.

"I can barely bake. Let alone create 'Homemade vanilla ice cream'" Cathy whined as she pointed to the ingredients with her index finger.

"We can do this. How about having a little faith Cat?" Esme replied, a deliciously Machiavellian smirk forming on her face.

Cathy's brows furrowed as she looked at her cousin tie an apron around her waist.

"All we have to do is follow the ingredients."

"You do realize this is culinary suicide?" Cathy said skeptically, raising an eyebrow at Esme.

Her cousin giggled.

"Not if we do it right. Come on Cat, just think how exciting this will be. And how wonderful it will feel when we actually accomplish this." Esme said sweetly as she gently nudged her cousin repeatedly in the ribs.

"Alright fine!" Cathy finally broke. "I'll do it, just...just stop nudging me." She couldn't contain herself as she let out a hearty laugh.

The kitchen was an image of utter ruin afterwards.

Time passed swiftly without them realizing it. Esme had begun resorting to wearing large dresses to accommodate her soft and round belly, _"I have a feeling it's a boy."_ She would say to Cathy when they would spend long hours reading in front of the fire. _"How do you know?"_ Her cousin would ask, _"I don't quite know, I just feel it."_ Esme would reply, running a hand through her belly.

Sometimes Esme would lie awake during the long hours of night on her bed, staring at the window, the pale moon looking straight back at her with luminous eyes. Mixed feelings of both fear and happiness would engulf her during those hours.

The reason of such peaceful happiness she felt was because of the beautiful light and life she carried within herself.

Her baby.

_Her_ child.

She would spend long hours fantasizing of the beautiful future that lay ahead for both of them. She knew in her heart that there was nothing she couldn't or wouldn't give to this wonderful creature, this angel in disguise. As long as she had him _or her_ she knew everything would be just alright.

_"Always know that I love you, sweetheart. You'll always be safe with me." _She would whisper lovingly.

Esme would fight whatever trials and tribulations she would be faced with in the long journey ahead. She would endure it all, just to know that her child will be safe, happy and most of all, most importantly, loved.

Now there was only one cloud in her horizon left.

Charles.

The thought of that man would bring up such hate and anger that Esme would find her hands shaking at the mere thought of him.

She knew her stay with Cathy wasn't permanent. She was not oblivious to the imminent possibility that Charles would one day find her.

If she closed her eyes, she could still hear him screaming his promise of vendetta against her.

But the time has not yet arrived.

When it does.

She will be ready.

_We_ will be ready.

She shifted slightly in her bed, underneath the warm white sheets. Her hair slightly sprawled delicately against her forehead as she took in a deep breath. Her hands deftly found their way underneath her pillow with familiarity as she slipped out the remaining half of the white handkerchief. Esme took a quick glance at it as she held it close to her chest softly before closing her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

She laid there in silence with her thoughts, and wondered as she had done several times in the past, down the long corridors of time.

_Carlisle._

How he is.

_Where_ he is and if he was alright.

Wondering if he too served his share of hardships during the war. And somehow wondered deep down if someone cared enough to comfort him throughout the difficulty and the empty embrace of the loneliness he must have suffered. Somehow Esme felt a slight pang of frivolous jealousy at the thought of a woman comforting him.

She tried to shake the thoughts aside to no avail.

She wondered if he ever had gotten wounded in battle _God forbid_, who would have taken care of him?

He was always the one who took care of others. Putting strangers first before himself.

The magic in him seems to come from his gentle touch and nature. Nurturing the wounded, caring for the sick and comforting the hurt. Some might say the reason for his actions is because he is a doctor and he is required to do so in that field of work, but what reason fails to reveal that he is far more than that, much_ more _than words could ever say with justice. The very core of him was shrouded in a heavy cloth that was filled with mystery. Yet the kindness in him, his gentleness could be seen with such ease it almost felt as if she were looking into the eyes of a young child, guileless in his outlook, and a heart filled with a great compassion that radiated with such warmth and beauty. She could see it, _feel it_ when he looked at her that night on the sidewalk. His eyes glimmering with a gentle fire in the darkness.

She stifled a yawn as her eyes drooped ever so slightly as she twirled her fingers around the cloth.

She sunk her head further into her pillow as slumber took her in its embrace.

The clouds were an electric shade of silver and grey, chaotically sprawled across the sky, painting it's canvas with an animalistic fervour. The black indigo canvas stirred ever so infinitesimally at the flash of thunder, roaring it's way through the never-ending sky.

She was standing on the ledge of a rocky cliff, lightning flashing behind her as her knees shivered against the ice cold air.

In the far distance the restless sea could be seen, wildly thrashing against the sharp rocks that lay below, as the waves writhed wildly in it's aquatic dance.

The dark waters were silently seducing her, tempting her senses as they urged her to stare into their hypnotic souls.

Esme closed her eyes, terrified to move. She could not seem to recall how she had gotten there in the first place. All she could feel now was the naked and nubile terror that lay in front of her.

She could feel the stony and callous texture of the ground beneath her as her toes tensed at the passing wind that tauntingly caused her body to sway against it's breath ever so lightly.

_Please God, help me._

She prayed as she squeezed her eyes shut.

As she stood there frozen like a statue with fear, an ominous silence followed her.

The cry of thunder in the sky started to cause large droplets of rain to pour down heavily at her. She started shaking as she slowly backed away from the sharp edge; the ground she was standing on was beginning to feel extremely slimy and slippery.

One wrong move could send her off the edge.

"Jump!"

A piercing voice screamed from behind her.

She snapped her head in the direction from where it came and was flabbergasted at the person who stood there behind her with a menacing smile on it's face.

Charles Evenson.

Esme shook her head.

"You'll never see your son again, he belongs to me." Charles sneered.

"No!" She screamed, as helpless tears started to stream down her face. "He will never belong to you, ever!"

She could hear the echo of his laughter in the air.

"Do you want to jump? Or shall I simply push you?" He said dauntingly.

"No, no! Get away from me. Do _not_ come near me." Esme said valiantly, as she slowly backed further away from the edge, inches at a time and careful as to not cause an unwanted slide down the rocky ground below.

"Jump, or your son dies."

Esme felt her heart stop.

"What?...you...you can't...you wouldn't..." She stuttered.

"Try me." He said with a smile.

Esme shook her head once more, "No, you're tricking me."

She watched as his face contorted with anger as he ran full speed towards her.

_Oh no, please no._

She veered her head away from him as she closed her eyes in anticipation of the forceful push she was about to receive when. . .

A minute passed. She was _still _standing there.

Nothing happened.

The rain was beginning to cease as the clouds shifted.

Esme opened her eyes.

Charles was gone.

She was completely perplexed.

_But my son, where is my son? What if he hurts my child?_

Esme's mind started the flow of questions as she began to feel weak with worry.__

I can't let him hurt my son.

She thought defiantly.

Esme could still hear Charles's voice, screaming at her to jump. Tempting her strength.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a fleeting group of birds that emerged from the dark trees behind her.

When she saw them pass, Esme realized they were not birds. They were _bats._

She felt her foot slip when a hand from behind her caught her by the waist, holding her gently yet firmly, pulling her into him until she leaned back into the stranger's intimate embrace.

"Don't jump. . ." He whispered softly into her ear.

The familiarity in his voice made her quiver slightly.

"Don't jump. . ." He repeated again gently. His breath tickling the skin on her ear.

"Carlisle..."

She turned to face him...

"Esme!"

A blood curling scream shook her out from her deep slumber.

_What in heaven's name?_

She sat up feeling slightly disoriented. Was it a dream or did she really hear someone scream her name?

Esme blinked her eyes several times trying to adjust her vision to the brightness of the room.

The sun was out and had no intention of dimming it's shine.

She heard it again, this time it came from the downstairs foyer. It sounded like Cathy.

She quickly slid off the bed barefoot and ran out of the bedroom and down the stairs gingerly. Her hair in a mad mass of curls as it billowed at her gait.

She saw Cathy standing at the door with a letter. Her face was pale.

Esme could feel the hair on the nape of her hair stand up.

_Oh no. This can't be._

She stopped mid-way and cautiously approached her cousin; somehow hoping deep down it wasn't what she thought it would be.

Cathy's eyes were glued on the paper she was holding.

"Cat, Cathy, what is it?"

Her cousin slowly lifted her dark eyes from the paper and met Esme's.

Her next words seemed to take an effort as she spoke.

"It's Charles. He's found you. And he's coming in three days."

Esme's knees felt like gelatine as she heard those words.

Her mouth hung open, she could not believe it. Her brain tried hopelessly to not register the meaning behind those words, but yet there it was, crystal clear as water itself.

"Cathy, I have nowhere else to go. I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't, I _won't_ go back to him. _Ever._ " Esme exclaimed helplessly as she placed a hand to her forehead.

She noticed her cousin's silence.

"Cathy, Cat! Say something. What am I going to do?" She said as she placed a hand on her cousin's shoulder, lightly shaking it.

"Charles is coming." Cathy repeated.

"Yes, I know, but-"

"I have a plan."

Cathy's lips contorted into an upward grin as her eyes sparkled lightly underneath Esme's stare.

**A/N: Hey guys! I am super, extremely, DEEPLY sorry for the delay. The last 3 days were insane! Haha I got even bruised from the badminton game I attended this afternoon haha. Anyways enough of my blabbing. Enjoy! LOVE you all and God bless! :D and THANK YOU so much for all your kind thoughts and comments! :) Your the best readers a writer could ever have and hope for :)**

**Stay tuned for chapter 15! Weow!**

**PLEASE REVIEW :)**

**They make me fly with happiness :D**


	15. Run To Ashland part 2

The Milwaukee train station was packed to the brim on a hectic Monday morning. The people filling every inch of space with children, assortment of dogs and excessively large amounts of luggage.

The shrill scream of the train whistle echoed through the air like a war cry as hot steam emerged from it's iron mouth.

The two women stood there amidst the surrounding mass of people that were bustling around them as they exchanged a tight embrace.

"You will write, won't you Cat?" Esme said in between sobs as she hugged her cousin.

Cathy nodded quietly, not quite trusting her voice completely.

She held her cousin at an arm's length to look at her once more.

"Remember you'll always have a home with me." Cathy said as she looked into her cousin's warm brown eyes.

Esme smiled, the little dimple in her cheek showing clearly at her expression. She looked at Cathy as if it were the first and the last time.

"How can I ever thank you?" She whispered softly.

Cathy shook her head, "That's what sisters are for." She said as she leaned in for another embrace.

"Take care of my Godchild, will you? And don't go giving my position as Godmother to anyone else, or else I'll track you down myself and throw an extremely embarrassing tantrum." She said as she chuckled sadly.

"I won't, I promise."

From behind them, they could hear the train conductor starting to call the passengers in.

Cathy broke the embrace as she thrusted the train ticket and the key into Esme's hand.

"Here, don't lose it okay? And remember what I told you. The instructions, _don't_ forget."

She ushered Esme into the train, and watched as her cousin settled on the seat next to the window.

Esme pressed a hand to the glass, looking on to Cathy teary-eyed one last time and found a smile that was bittersweet.

The train engine was starting to roar as it's wheels started to turn in motion.

Cathy stood there as she waved helplessly, tears filling her eyes as she bid her cousin goodbye.

Never knowing if or when they will see each other again.

As the train started to move further away, Cathy turned on her heel and started walking in the opposite direction. No longer being able to bear the sad hole that was filled with sadness at the sight of her cousin in tears and that look of pure vulnerability in her eyes.

Esme watched and held back a sob as the Wisconsin countryside begin to melt away into the far distance. The pale greenery turning into an odd shade of brown and charcoal as it slithered away from view.

She sunk back into her seat and leaned her head against the cool glass window.

Somehow the motion of the train was making her slightly sick; she bit her lip hoping the nausea would pass.

_Just breathe, breathe._

She gently inhaled and exhaled through her nostrils as she felt her chest fall down slowly.

Esme sat there in heavy silence as she recalled the conversation she and Cathy had a few days ago.

_"It can't fail." Cathy said as her eyes danced with life underneath the living room light._

_"I can't believe it." Esme said as she placed a hand to her chest. The echoes of Cathy's words reverberating themselves into her ear once more._

_"I think a 'Thank you' might be in order?" Cathy smirked._

_"How could I ever repay you?" Esme said as she hugged her cousin._

_"Oh be silent, just promise me you and that baby will be alright. Promise me." She said intently._

_"I promise." Esme replied as she smiled._

_"Listen carefully Em," Cat said as she led her cousin to the sofa and sat down together._

_"I already wired Marc all the necessary information. The only thing he does not know is that your married-"_

_"What? Cat, you-you have to tell hi-"_

_Cathy raised a hand to placate her cousin._

_"I told him you're a war widow."_

_Esme felt like she was pushed into a pool of concrete._

_"Oh my word." Esme exclaimed softly. "This is insanity; I can't keep a lie like that!"_

_"You have to, unless you want to go on living with Charles for the rest of your life." Cathy said, scolding her cousin lightly._

_Esme shuddered. "Alright fine." She conceded. "What else do I have to do?"_

_Cathy placed a small brass key into Esme's hands._

_Esme looked at her unsurely._

_"What am I suppose to do with this?" She asked, as she raised both eyebrows._

_"That my darling, is your key to your palace. Alright, it isn't exactly a palace, but it's a home you can live in for as long as you want." Cathy felt Esme squeeze her hand, her eyes filled with deep gratitude._

_Cathy smiled shyly. "You can always count on me. Anyways, moving on," Cathy said as she cleared her throat. "My father and I bought this house; I think it was 5 years before he passed away." A small smile threatened to form on her lips but failed as a slight frown creased her face, "We only used it once, and it was to celebrate his birthday. We wanted to use it as a vacation home of some sort. We could never really decide what we wanted to do with it." Cathy laughed quietly. She shook herself out of her thoughts, "No need to worry. I've already had the old caretaker fix it up for you, It's fully furnished. And one last thing Marc is your neighbour; he will help you if you should ever need anything. He used to teach French at the University there-"_

_"Can Marc be trusted?" Esme asked, cutting her off._

_Cathy met Esme's gaze as her lips parted, her cheeks flushed._

_"Yes, Marc can be trusted." She said slowly as her eyes dropped to the floor, "I knew him long enough."_

_Esme finally understood the look in her cousin's face._

Her thoughts were interrupted by the train's abrupt stop.

One look at the window and she knew, she had arrived.

Ashland is a city in Jackson County, Oregon. Near the sunny California border, and located in the south end of the emerald coloured Rogue Valley that was bursting with large trees and rocky mountains. Rustic scent of fruits and nuts filled the air as a warm summer breeze breathed it's way into the town. It was named after Ashland County, Ohio, point of origin of Abel Helman and other founders, and secondarily for Ashland,Kentucky.

It officially became a town with the name Ashland Mills in 1855.

The town plaza was an image of loveliness that was mixed with a delicate quaint ambiance that made Esme feel quite at home right away. Somehow deep down she knew that if she stayed long enough, she could easily almost call this home.

_Almost._

She gripped her suitcase as she made her way through the unfamiliar streets, still feeling quite lightheaded from the train. She glanced at the piece of paper that had the address of the house she was going to be staying in.

_How hard could finding a house be?_

She walked around for a good 30 minutes still feeling a bit disoriented. It was definitely an advantage to be traveling light.

Esme glanced at the paper once more as she took a turn that led down a street that were lined with houses.

"Hmm, turn right at the end of-"

Suddenly a deep voice from behind her spoke.

"You must be Esme."

She turned to face the mysterious speaker.

He was tall. Lovely hazelnut coloured hair that was slightly greying at the temples, very handsome features along with deep set eyes with long lashes, a nose that was lightly tilted, lips that were slightly pouted at the bottom together with a chin that had a deep cleft imbedded in it.

Esme was tempted to laugh, knowing the history this man must have had with her cousin.

He was much older than she expected him to be.

Oh Cathy, this is so you.

Esme quietly joked in her head.

"You must be Marc?" Esme replied.

"Yes." His voice contained vague traces of a French accent.

"How do you do?" Esme greeted cordially.

He nodded in response.

"Allow me," He took her suitcase and motioned for her to follow him.

They walked a few meters away from the town and stopped at a house that very much resembled a cottage of some sort that was surrounded by a white picket fence.

"I presume you have the key?" He asked as he opened the small fence gate for her.

"Yes of course." She replied as she walked past him.

They entered the house a few moments later.

It was just as Cathy described nothing fancy just simple basic furniture.

Esme adored it, somehow from the inside it resembled a doll's house she used to play with as a child.

She wandered to the living room. It wasn't as big as she imagined it to be, but it did have a wonderful fireplace that was adorned with Cathy's collection of snow globes and miniature figurines.

She let out a small laugh, she missed Cathy terribly already.

"Where would you like me to place this?" Marc asked from behind her.

"Oh, could you kindly place it down on top of the stairs for me, please?"

"Of course."

She watched as he exited the room.

_He seems nice._

"Can I get you anything?" He asked as he returned.

"No, thank you." She replied with a small smile.

There was a fraction of an awkward pause between them.

"I know it isn't my place to ask, but may I ask you a personal question? You see, I haven't heard from Cathy in years...and...and this sort of came as a surprise..."

"Go on, you may ask your question."

"You are a war widow?" He asked gingerly as he met her eyes.

Esme could hear Cathy's voice in her head.

_Don't forget the instructions._

Esme swallowed, "Yes, yes I am."

She watched him nod. "May I ask a question?"

"Certainly."

"Cathy told me you are a teacher at a-"

"University, yes. A long time ago, until I decided to retire early." He pointed to what seemed like a battle scar on his left hand. "A little souvenir during the time I served in the war, and when I came back, I thought it would be best for me to live a more, _quiet_ life for a little while." He said quietly, his eyes grim.

"I see, are you fre-"

"French? yes, half actually. My father was French, my mother American. If I may ask, has Cathy told you anything that happened between us in the pas-"

"No." Esme said, cutting him off, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Whatever you two shared remains between the both of you only. She didn't tell me anything of that sort, only that you were a very dear friend to her."

A brief smile lighted his eyes.

"Speaking of Cathy, You'll be pleased to know that; well I suppose you know that I'm your next door neighbour."

"Yes, I believe she told me before I left."

"I'm only 4 blocks away if you should need anything." He said as he offered her his unscarred hand, a jovial smile on his face.

Esme took it as she shook hands with him.

"Thank you."

"No trouble at all."

Esme sat down in one of the easy chairs that were next to the empty fireplace.

"If you'll excuse, you probably have some unpacking to do." Marc said as he excused himself from her presence.

She watched him as he walked towards the front door and paused before he opened it.

"Oh, before I could forget, your cousin told me that you might need a job. So I took the liberty in enlisting you as a teacher in a small kindergarten school near the plaza. You start tomorrow afternoon."

After a brief smile, he left closing the door behind him.

Esme sat there feeling utterly exhausted.

"Tomorrow?" She moaned, "Why can't it be in the next week to come." She said as she covered her eyes with a soft hand.

Things were certainly moving faster than she expected, she had just only arrived after all.

But now that she thought of it, it might not be a bad idea at all.

She remembered her dream of teaching when she was younger, and felt a frisson of joy at being able to fulfil that dream soon.

She slowly stood up and headed to the stairwell.

She ascended cautiously as her hand rested on her soft belly, gently rubbing it.

She could feel him move slightly, she gave a little chuckle.

_"We're going to be just alright now." _She whispered.

She took her suitcase and proceeded to the master's bedroom.

It was very dainty and clean and had large windows that held the view of the forest as the sun shined brightly in the distance.

Esme placed the suitcase on top of the bed as she sat down.

Dizziness was beginning blur her vision as she tried to unlock her luggage.

She decided to lay back down.

The room began to spin as darkness took over.

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's an update for you LOVELY people out there :) I'm just brimming with happiness right now, THANK YOU SO MUCH for ALL your kind words! They mean a LOT to me :) You guys are so incredibly sweet and you make my day all the more brighter! :D And I'm so sorry for the delay! Please forgive me?**

**Chapter 16 won't be too far behind ;D**

**Keep reading! And Keep em' reviews coming! :)**

**I'm incredibly addicted to your reviews, did you guys know that? ;)**

**Love you all and God Bless!**

**Oh and a little treat to all you AMAZING readers out there, I won't tell you which chapter I will use this song on but I want you guys to check it out and tell me what you guys think :)**

**You Have Been Loved - Sia :D**


	16. Traces Of Him

_"Dearest Diary,_

_I can't express the worry I feel for my cousin Esme and her child. But all I can do_  
_at the moment is hope and pray for the best. I hope deep in my heart I have made the right_  
_decisions for her. I love her very dearly as I would my own sister. And I can't deny that I already miss her terribly. I wish her stay with me could have been_

_prolonged. But somehow we both knew it would not last forever. Not with that maniac on the loose. I had to hide her somewhere safe, somewhere he will never find her, or her baby. I will not even dare put anything into writing for fear that my actions are being watched, Charles is a scoundrel. But he is no fool. As for now all I can do is wait and hope the storm will pass-"_

It was a cloudy Tuesday morning when Cathy heard a knock on her front door. She was seated in the large dining hall writing in her journal. The white pages ruffling every so often as she turned a page, she had just finished eating her breakfast when she heard the knock again.

Somehow she had a notion in her gut who exactly it was.

She let whoever was knocking on her door wait for a reasonable amount of time before she gathered herself from the seat and proceeded out the dining area and past the foyer.

She stood in front of the large white wooden door and squeezed the handle as she opened it.

Just as she suspected.

_Charles Evenson._

Charles stood there, dressed shabbily and clearly unshaven. He walked past the threshold and walked directly inside into Cathy's home uninvited.

Before she could stop him he started screaming out Esme's name as he ascended the stairs haphazardly and headed straight for the masters bedroom.

Cathy watched him quietly as she willed herself to stay calm.

Charles stood there in the empty bedroom when Cathy walked up behind him.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked raising an eyebrow.

He turned to face her, his nostrils flaring, his eyes bloodshot. It was evident that he had been drinking judging from the stale scent of liquor that was permeating from his breath.

"You know why I'm here." He hissed. "Where's my wife? Where's Esme?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Cathy said blankly as she toyed with the tip of her fingernails.

"Where is she!" Charles screamed, his eyes widening with rage as he grabbed Cathy painfully by the wrist.

But instead of flinching she stood her ground.

Cathy shook his grasp from her wrist as she crossed her arms over her waist.

"You pathetic snivelling drunk." She sneered. "You'll never find her, _ever._"

Charles blinked rapidly, as he shot her a murderous look. "If you think I'll let a woman outsmart me, you're wrong, dead wrong."

"I'm going to ask you one last time, _where_ is she?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

"Your threats don't work in this household Mr Evenson." Cathy said casually as she leaned against the wooden doorframe, her wavy dark locks framing her oval face. Cathy's dark eyes glimmered with satisfaction as she spoke, "You're on private property, I suggest you _leave_, before I call the authorities."

Charles held her steady gaze, quietly challenging her.

He knew she was nowhere near joking.

He lowered his head as he walked past her and headed down the stairs.

Cathy followed him as the sounds of her light footfall echoed down the wooden steps.

Before he could open the door she stopped him,

"One more thing, I never want to see your dirty face in my house again."

He turned to glare at her as he gripped the doorknob. "We'll see."

Cathy returned his look as she spoke, her voice even. "Get out."

Back in Ashland.

Esme's day was going unexpectedly well aside from the bought with dizziness and fatigue she experienced the previous night. The lovely afternoon pleasantly surprised her, because she had no experience in teaching whatsoever but like most new things that came her way, she took it all in stride.

The day was bright and beautiful. Not a single cloud in the horizon as the blinding sun shone freely over the vast blue sky.

Esme took it as a good omen.

Marc was kind enough to help her go through the lesson plan which surprisingly was simple enough to apply to the young students.

She was substituting for another teacher who was out sick that week, and basically all she needed to do was improve the children's literacy skills.

Even though the children were miraculously well behaved, she couldn't lie and say that she felt extremely confident. On the contrary she felt quite nervous at first but as soon as she found her rhythm, everything fell into place.

It was as if she was born to do this _or_ at least meant to do this at some point in her life, per se. Her benevolence and sweet nature made the children fall in love with her as her time in the classroom wore on.

She was warm and exceedingly charismatic. Adding a touch of humour to her teachings as the children looked on starry eyed at her. When she would begin to read to them, the words flowed like a gentle stream from her soft lips as she made each word come to life with a distinct color and meaning. It captured their minds and captivated their young hearts. For it was not her soft voice that caused them to listen to her, but it was the meaning in the words she spoke which was filled with untainted innocence and grace. It was not her beautiful face that drew them in to her, but her smile that seemed to have melted even the coldest of hearts with a single glance.

Her mind was free from guile and her heart flowing with kindness.

She easily became their favorite teacher.

The idyllic afternoon passed lazily without a moment's thought. The skies were filled with cotton blankets of white in a still sea of translucent blue as far off birds took flight with the gentle wind.

Esme was finally given the chance to live her dream. Even if it was for a short while, she wouldn't have traded it in for all the riches in the world.

Finally, for the first time in a long while, she felt, _happy._

She smiled down at her round belly as she said a silent prayer of gratitude.

It was getting farther late into the afternoon as class came to an end.

Esme watched through her mirth lighted eyes that shined slightly underneath the hazy remnants of sunlight that peeked through the tall trees which hovered over the small school in a shady embrace, she watched the children burst out the open door to be reunited with their parents. Their sweet voices filling the air with laughter and joyous echoes of frivolous happiness.

There couldn't have been a more wonderful sight for her than that lovely scene which played out before her eyes.

As she straightened out the books and the papers that were strewn across the wooden desk, a little boy at the far right corner of the room caught her eye.

She was surprised to find that he was still there. The classroom had been empty for over a while now.

He was seated near the window as he fumbled with the buttons on his shirt with his little fingers.

The afternoon sun illuminated itself inside the room with gentle rays of yellow as Esme proceeded towards the boy.

Even from a distance she could vividly make out his appearance.

He was quite blonde, no older than 7 with vividly pink cheeks and a nose that was slightly turn up.

"Hello sweetheart, is there someone here to pick you up?" Esme said sweetly as she crouched down to the child's eye level.

The little boy raised his cerulean blue eyes to meet hers as he nodded.

Esme smiled at him.

"What's your name?"

He wiped his nose with his sleeve nervously as he spoke in a little voice. "C-Carl. My Name is Carl."

"Very pleased to make your handsome acquaintance Carl." Esme cooed as she shook his little hand.

Carl smiled bashfully at her.

He continued to fumble with the buttons on his shirt as he sighed in frustration.

"I think it's broken." He said sadly.

"Not in my class." Esme said defiantly. "Come here." She said softly as she motioned the child over to her.

She gently picked him up in her arms and carried him to her desk as she sat the boy down on her lap.

Turns out the button was simply entangled by a piece of lint.

She gently manuvered her way around it as her soft fingers slipped it out of it's entangled  
web.

"See? It's not broken." Esme said as she smiled down at him.

The boy's face lighted with a grin, "Thank you Teacher."

"You're most welcome Carl."

Just then, a tall woman in a pink floral dress came up to the front door as she called out to the young boy.

"Mommy!" Carl called out as he hopped from Esme's lap and into his mother's arms, "Mommy, mommy, she fixed my button!" Carl said excitedly as he showed his mother.

"That's wonderful darling." His mother smiled as she gave him a light kiss on the forehead.

"You have a beautiful boy." Esme said as she gave Carl's mother a warm smile.

She smiled shyly, "Thank you very much." She whispered something to the little boy as they started to walk away. "Goodbye Teacher, see you tomorrow." Carl called out as he waved before exiting with his mother out the door.

"See you tomorrow too Carl." Esme replied softly as she waved back.

A soft chuckle escaped her lips as the boy reminded her of a certain blonde from her past.

_Carlisle._

Shortly after Esme stacked all the books back into their shelves and locked up; Marc came by and escorted her home.

It was past 5 as their gait slowed down easily on the sidewalks that led to her house.

Marc was mostly quiet the whole walk through. He seemed pensive, as if something was on his mind and he couldn't decide whether to tell it or not.

After a short while, they reached her front door.

Marc was about to bid her goodbye when she stopped him.

"Wouldn't you like to come in for some tea? It's the least I can do to thank you," Esme said as she smiled at him. "Today was extremely wonderful."

"I'd love to." He said.

They entered the house as Esme closed the door behind them.

"Please make yourself comfortable." Esme said as she hung her coat and hat and proceeded to walk into the kitchen.

"Oh could you please start the fireplace for me? I'm feeling quite chilly this evening." Esme called out to Marc from the kitchen.

"Alright, no trouble at all." He replied back.

A few short minutes later their tea was ready. Marc helped Esme carry their tray back into the living room; a cheerful fire greeted her as she sat herself down on the sofa.

"Please, do sit down." Esme motioned for him to sit beside her as she carefully poured him a cup, "Here you are," She said softly as she handed him the warm porcelain china.

"Thank you." He noticed she wasn't having her own. "Aren't you going to have one as well?"

She shook her head lightly, "For tonight, I don't think so. I feel quite full." She watched as he nodded and took in a sip.

The air around them warm and comfortable. As they chatted amongst themselves, their conversation was mostly revolving around Esme's first day of teaching and the children. How he explained to her later on that he would be more than glad to help her if she needed more books or whether she needed him to help her with lesson plans.

All in all, their conversation was pleasant. Yet for some reason she couldn't quite comprehend, Esme felt that Marc was tense and uneasy. They continued their conversation for a few minutes longer when Esme could no longer bear the dense air that hung around him.

"Marc, do forgive me if I sound rather blatant but perhaps you could tell me," Esme took a slight pause as she gathered her thoughts, "Tell me about what happened between you and Cathy?"

Marc's brows furrowed for a moment as his expression softened.

"Of course, she told me how close you two are. I think it's fair that you should know as well." He conceded.

She watched him as he licked his lips gingerly.

"You see, I met your cousin several years ago in the University when she took a summer class in French. She was quite the free spirit amongst her group of girls, and certainly the most outspoken. I suppose you've noticed that I _am_ quite older than she, but perhaps if you were in the situation I was in, nothing quite makes sense." He said as he laughed quietly.

Esme watched his face as she fidgeted with the table napkin she was holding.

"What _did_ happen?" She asked.

"I...I fell in love with her." He said, his eyes wincing as he said it. "Very deeply, in love with her." He whispered.

"She drove me absolutely out of my mind." He said as he chuckled softly, "But I loved her and wanted her to be my wife. She said she was happy with the way things were and...I...I decided to be content with that for a while." He pressed his palms together as he spoke, "I wanted her to be happy but yet I also wanted our life to be complete and I thought marriage was the best way to do it. Everything was alright for a while until one evening..."

He closed his eyes as the memory poured itself back into his mind.

"One evening, I had finally gathered my courage to propose, there was so much confidence in me that I went as far as to buy her a ring right away. Somehow a part of me insisted that she already had changed. Instead of it being the happiest nights of my life, it was one of the worst." He said as she shook his head, his lips tensing.

"I suppose I shouldn't have lost my anger and screamed at her the way I did. I guess I was so desperate for wanting to change her so drastically that I wasn't seeing to the things she wanted and needed. I wasn't thinking of what was truly best for her." His eyes started to moisten. He turned his head by a fraction of an inch, clearing his throat, as if to re-compose himself.

"I'm so sorry." Esme said softly, lightly touching his shoulder.

Marc gave a small shrug. "She threw the ring at me and left." He said as he laughed sadly.

"I suppose it was why her letter came off as a complete and utter surprise to me, knowing all that has happened in the past."

There was a brief silence.

"How did you get that scar?" Esme asked innocently, trying to change the subject.

He rubbed his hands gingerly.

Marc started to speak about the war and his experiences and about a certain man by the name of Dr Cullen.

Esme felt her stomach constrict and her throat go dry, "Yes? wh-what about Dr Cullen?"

Marc let out a sigh as his thoughts wandered back in time. "You see, we were helping our troops transfer to a new basecamp that morning." He said as his eyes steadied onto the fire burning in front of him.

"And since it had been raining the entire day it started taking a toll on our equipment which some of were, unfortunately stuck in the mud. The weather was so terrible; we barely got to see the wink of daylight."

His body tensed as he continued on.

"It was probably past 12 midnight. We had still been transferring crates of food and medicine, when a surprise attack had been launched leaving 50 of us wounded. The doctor who was on duty at that time had been killed by one of the grenades that hit their tent."

He shuddered slightly

"They eventually retreated when they realized we out numbered them, but the consequences were devastating. And this man, this Dr Cullen came in at the last minute, completely drenched in mud and rain. How he got there so quickly I'll never know." He said as his voice shivered.

"The thunderstorm was at its peak. You could barely see anything, everything was pitch black. And yet this man, he ran tirelessly across the fields searching if any of my men were still alive." He said as he clasped his hands tighter around the other, his pupils widening slightly.

"He ran back and forth in the middle of the storm until he gathered all the ones who had survived, you couldn't even see the man blink. His dedication was, almost inhuman."

"He was the one who fixed this," He said as he lifted his left palm that was deeply embedded with a 7 inch scar, "I know it isn't quite a picture of beauty, but if it weren't for him, that hand wouldn't be there in the first place." He said as he rubbed the scar once more.

"Most of us were wounded, the rest. . ." His voice trailed off.

"I never saw him again after that night." Marc said quietly.

Marc noticed Esme's silence. He turned to look at her.

Her face was pale as the expression of shock plastered itself onto her eyes. She had her hand on her belly.

"What is it?" Marc asked, panic in his voice,

"Marc, I think my water broke."

**A/N: Yay! Here's chapter 16 for you guys! THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH for all your kind reviews I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH! You make me excessively high on happiness ;) Please stay tuned for chapter 17! And I'm deeply sorry for the delay, please forgive me. My grandfather had to be taken to the hospital and unfortunately I caught a flu when I was visiting him ):**

**You guys are the best reviewers a writer could ever hope for :') LOVE YOU GUYS! and GOD BLESS!**

**Please keep reading and reviewing! They take me on a whole new level of high ;D**


	17. I Go To Sleep

A baby boy was born to Esme prematurely in the early hours of dawn.

She laid on her hospital bed in a sea of white sheets.

Her hair was densely matted on the sides of her face due to the remnants of perspiration she experienced a few hours earlier.

Instead of feeling exhausted and drained, she felt extremely unsettled with visceral excitement.

She was finally going to meet him for the very first time.

She gently drummed her fingers on the mattress as her mind pondered on the endless possibilities of how he would look like.

Would he have her eyes?

Would he have the colour of her hair?

Would his smile be like hers?

She could not contain herself.

Esme stared at the bare white ceiling as she waited. Not far from her room was the nurse's station. The sound of a dreary metronome piercing the silence with it's ticking finger.

A few moments later, she could hear someone's flat footfall reverberating in the distance. Somehow she felt inane with anxiety, it was ridiculous but she felt this maternal instinct of worry about her child. She didn't get the chance to see the child after she had delivered him, and all she could do was hope for the best that he was alright.

The silence in her room was interrupted by the creaking of the door.

A nurse dressed in white entered carrying something small in her arms, shrouded in a light blue cloth.

The auburn-haired nurse smiled as she walked over to Esme's bedside and placed the delicate infant in her arms.

"You have a beautiful baby boy." The nurse whispered to Esme, "He's still asleep." She said after she placed the baby in her arms and she headed towards the door.

"Thank you." Esme replied softly.

The nurse gave a nod before gently closing the door to Esme's room.

She stared at the lovely creature she held in her arms, coddling the child closer to her.

An image of purity and cherubic innocence that could only belong to this beautiful angel.

She smiled with trembling lips as warm tears slowly flowed down her cheeks.

She had made it.

They _both_ had made it.

The child stirred lightly in her arms as he sleepily lifted his eyelids, revealing caramel coloured eyes.

_"I love you my sweet angel." _She whispered lovingly at the small infant.

She gently traced the shape of his small palms with her index finger when he grasped it gently, his eyes somehow focused on hers, _"Can you see me yet darling?" _She whispered gently.

The baby's brows furrowed as he let out a small sneeze.

Esme chuckled softly, _"God bless you, my angel." _She said, lifting the baby's hand to her lips and kissed it sweetly.

"May I interrupt you both for a moment?" A voice spoke,

Esme turned to see who it was and smiled to see Marc poking his head in from behind the door.

"Marc, come in," She said quietly, her voice sounding rather hoarse. "Don't make too much noise though; I think he's falling back asleep."

"Of course," Marc replied, slowly making his way towards her with a gentle smile.

He sat on the side of her bed as he looked at her.

"How are you feeling?" He asked,

"Quite weak, but I don't care, it was definitely worth it." She said smiling once more.

Marc laughed, "Definitely, that's a fine young man you have there." He said as he nodded at the baby.

"Yes he is, isn't he?" She said beaming down at her baby.

"Oh I almost forgot." Marc said as he pulled up his left hand, revealing a bouquet of lilies in vibrant colours of magenta and citrusy orange.

"Marc, they're lovely. Thank you." She smiled as he placed the flowers next to her nightstand.

"You're most welcome. Before I leave, I'll make sure to have the nurses find a vase for that." He replied.

"Thank you so much; I don't know how I can-"

Marc laughed rather sheepishly, "No trouble at all, really." He said softly.

"Nonsense, I shall pay you back somehow." Esme insisted.

"Alright, when you get your strength back we'll think of something."

"Alright that would be good."

They chatted for a few more minutes when the baby started sneezing more often.

"That's strange," Esme said under her breath. She gently raised her hand and placed it softly against the baby's forehead.

"Is he alright?" Marc asked.

"He seems fine," Esme replied, more so to herself than Marc. "He feels slightly warm, that's all." She said as her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Would you like me to call for the nurse?" Marc suggested.

"Would you kindly please?"

"Certainly, I'll be back."

She watched Marc exit the room as she checked on her baby once more.

Marc returned a few moments later with the same nurse whom Esme saw earlier accompanied by an elderly doctor with silver-grey hair.

She felt infinitesimally bated when the nurse took the baby from her arms as the doctor performed a routinely check on the child.

"Is he going to be alright?" She asked, her voice almost coming out as a whisper as she wrung her hands gingerly.

The doctor looked at her beneath heavy spectacles, "It seems he's caught a cold of some sort. I can't say for certain, we'll have to keep him under observation in the nursery."

"In the nursery?" Esme repeated, "Why can't he stay with me?"

"For sanitary purposes, we're not exactly sure if the bacteria he contracted are contagious or not. But I assure you madam he will be just fine. One day, two at the most."

"That seems awfully long doctor. . ." Esme says quietly. Biting her lip lightly, her mind deep in thought.

"Alright, do what you think is best. But please, be gentle with my darling." Esme said begrudgingly.

They started to exit the room as Marc held the door open for them to walk out.

"Wait." Esme called out. Still feeling quite capricious about her decision.

She wanted to tell them she changed her mind, but saw the look on the doctor's face and decided against it at the last minute.

"Can I kiss him goodbye?"

The nurse walked over to her and Esme took the child into her arms once more.

_"I love you very much sweetheart. Mommy will be here waiting for you when you return."_ She whispered as she kissed the baby softly on the cheek.

Marc closed the door and walked back to Esme's bedside.

"Will you be alright by yourself? I need to do a few errands." Marc said as he gave her hand a light squeeze.

"Yes of course. Just kindly visit me when you can." Esme replied with a small smile.

"Will do."

Shortly after Marc leaves, Esme falls into an uneasy sleep that was filled with worry. .

She waits in fervour of impatience as 2 days stretched itself out with an uncaring yawn, the minutes and hours seemingly refusing to move.

Later in the afternoon. The doctor visits her, unaccompanied by the nurse.

The child had died.

A savage storm had broken out during the black depths of night. Lightning setting the sky ablaze with cold winds that carried icy breaths.

A nurse was passing by a corridor when something caught her eye as she passed a window.

She blinked her eyes several times thinking it was her imagination, yet there it was in front of her.

A woman dressed in a hospital gown was running aimlessly into the open plains in the middle of the feral tempest.

The nurse was beginning to feel panicked as she saw the woman stand on the foot of the cliff. She pried her eyes off the window to summon help.

Within the split second she had left the window, the woman dressed in the hospital gown was no longer standing there.

The Columbus Hospital ironically was situated on a road that led up to a small and stony hill which was perched ominously not too far from a certain infamous cliff that lay barren and untouched by any humans due to it's dark reputation.

Dr Carlisle Cullen was working his graveyard shift at the top floor of Columbus Hospital that evening.

He found the top floor to be very accommodating when he needed his moments of solitude. For most of the staff members tried to avoid that particular floor due to it's grotesque ambiance.

He wandered through the dark corridors with silent footfalls. His graceful stature moving through the clinical floors with ease, his stethoscope swaying gently as he held it loosely in his right palm.

He took a turn at the end of a corridor, a soft sigh escaping his lips as his pale fingers tugged on his tie lightly. The day was crammed in with patients of all shapes and sizes yet no matter how daunting their number grew he tended to each and every one of them with immeasurable patience and diligence, not even for a second faltering.

His rounds were set to start in about 30 minutes.

He was about to proceed to the stairwell when a nurse emerged from room 17 A. Judging by her face, even from the great distance, he could see the outcome was grim.

On a regular night, he would have kept to himself and moved on, but for some reason that he could not fathom, it was as if it was gravity that propelled him towards that room.

And he could not fight against it.

It called out to him with soft whispers that lingered in the night air.

His instincts were as sharp as his acute senses. He approached the room slowly as if he were under water. His hands found the doorknob; he stopped momentarily as he heard it. Soft at first then clearer and clearer.

A soft pulse was beating in the muffled distance, it was weak but steady.

He pushed the door open as he stepped inside, quietly closing the door behind him.

Once inside, he closed his eyes as he began deciphering the scents that trickled into his nostrils that came from a mysterious figure that was shrouded in white.

_Moisture from the rain._

_Dirt._

_Grass._

His eyes widened as he recognized the fourth scent.

His mouth parted, not daring to believe it could be even remotely possible.

_It can't be._

And yet even in the dimly lit room, he knew.

Her scent was there. Clear and pure as the night air yet powerfully distinct.

His golden eyes laid on the still figure that was before him, covered in a white sheet as it layed there in stoic silence.

His tongue felt tight in his mouth as he grinded his teeth, his fists clenched.

His hands grasped the end of the white sheet as he began lifting it.

His eyes could not lie. It was her, only her. For there was no one in this infinite world who looked like her. Not her nose, not her lips nor her eyes, not even her scent.

He looked at her with mournful eyes as he knelt by her side, the first time in almost 10 years.

He softly took her hand which had been callously scarred and kissed it softly.

He knew now what he had to do.

His head snapped towards the door. In the distance he could hear footsteps approaching, there was no time to waste.

He opened a nearby window and walked back to where she laid.

He gently lifted her in his strong arms. For a brief moment she had opened her eyes, but before he could see them, they were already moving fast into the night.

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry again for the major delay XD I'm still recovering from a flu and a terrible cough, but I'm getting better now! And a major THANK YOU! To all who reviewed I LOVE YOU GUYSSS! You guys make me so happy! :) Stay tuned for chapter 18 ;)**

**Oh and a reader of mine wanted to know my age, so I decided to turn it into a bit of a guessing game so we can have a bit of fun :) Whichever reader guesses my age right gets the chance to suggest a song for me to use in my next chapter so ready, get set, guess! XD**

**Keep reading and reviewing you gorgeous people :) Lots of love and God bless!**


	18. Immortal Kiss

She was in a dark place.

A place where no light dared to touch.

She was alone.

The life flowing from her with each breath she took.

She feels tremendous guilt for having done something wrong, yet she cannot remember anything.

Within the recesses of her black cocoon she sees brief flashes of light.

And a face.

A face she has seen many times, yet only in her dreams.

She smiles at this, and sighs dreamily.

Perhaps this is a dream.

It has to be a dream.

Yet she sees his face again, clear and beautiful right before her, a sense of worry was sketched into the depths of his eyes.

What a cruel dream this is, to be taunting her so maliciously.

Slowly as she untangles herself from the silky black ribbons of unconsciousness, she remembers.

Little pieces at first.

The doctors are telling her something, yet she could not understand the meaning in their words.

Her memory then takes her to where she is teetering on the edge of a cliff; it had been raining, thunderstorms surrounding her as she stared into the dark abyss below.

She shudders.

_Did I do..._

She dared not finish her question.

She is now fully awake. She can feel herself being carried by someone.

She is no longer in the hospital. The deep and stony silence in her new surroundings certifies that fact.

She can feel the prelude to the pinpricks of pain, slowly rising in her body.

Her mind was starting to register the heavy blow of bruises she had suffered from the fall.

She writhed in discomfort, trying to numb herself from the pain, anything to distract her from the pain. Her eyelids felt excessively heavy, she could not find strength to open them.

But she had to try.

She had to tell whoever was carrying her to help her with the pain; she could not bear to face it by herself.

Her mouth parted but no words could come out, strength has left her broken body.

She was falling fast, twirling down like a mangled doll as it hits the jagged rocks.

She felt fear.

The kind of fear that is faceless, shapeless. Eating away at the spirit like a parasite.

She felt herself being laid down on a large bed, her head being placed on a soft pillow.

_Such cold, yet soft hands. . ._

She knew death would not be too far away.

She laid still; for fear that indescribable pain would quickly follow. Her breathing came in laboured gasps.

She wanted to be free from this pain, to escape from its sharp claws; she does not know how long she could hang on. Until she saw his face again through half open lids and hazed visions.

Who knew that in the moment of her death, it was his face she would see.

That heaven sent face whose memory haunts her ever so tenderly.

Whether it was a dream or not, she was thankful to see him once more.

He was kneeling at her bedside. His hands clasped together tightly. His eyes were closed.

He was in deep contemplation.

He seemed to be in such pain.

Even though she knew this was a dream she still wanted to see if there was any chance of this being real.

With little strength she had left, she slowly willed her hand to move.

A few more tries, nothing.

And finally as she gave one more push, her hand limply rolled off to her side barely brushing against his white sleeve.

She let out a moan of pain from the movement.

His hands slowly lowered, as he opened his eyes. Revealing the familiar honey shade as it surrounded his pupil in a sea of gold.

He was staring at her with such intent and sadness.

She felt slightly frightened.

Before she could blink, he was now hovering above her.

His lips tight and small. His eyes which seemed to have contained such a deep pain to which she longed to understand.

She opened her lids a little wider, he truly was there. .

This was no illusion, no dream, nor a hallucination.

He _is_ there in front of her.

She could never understand how in the world he had found her. She wanted to ask him so many questions, so many things.

But the pain was returning fast and she twisted slightly as warm tears began gushing from her eyes.

"W...won't you say a prayer for me?" She said in a helpless quiver.

She watched him close his eyes and opened them a moment later. His golden eyes staring deeply into hers.

He said nothing, but somehow she understood his silence perfectly and knew each unspoken word he said by heart.

Her heartbeat was ringing in his ears as he leaned closer to her. He gently brushed the hair away from her face and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

He slowly moved to her neck, the blood was pulsing there in intoxicating rhythm.

His lips brushed against the skin as his mouth widened.

His sharp teeth had sunken into her; he could feel her soft skin break under his bite. Her warm blood flowing like dark wine onto his lips.

His venom was inside her, pouring fast as they slipped into her veins.

It would not be long until her heart would no longer beat.

The blush in her tender cheeks forever lost.

The warmth in her skin, never again.

He looked at her as if he were looking at a last sunrise.

For he knew.

He knew that once she awoke from her slumber, it would be forever at sunset.

It should not be long now, till her eyes opened once more.

The night is thin and damp as it covers the land in a dark embrace.

There are no stars, only murky clouds of grey cotton floating aimlessly in the black horizon.

The moon is bright and clear as it watches the gloomy earth with sleepy eyes.

Outside, the soft whistle of the wind could be heard through the trees as night creatures emerge from their nest to relish in the cold night air.

She was awake.

Her eyes no longer brown, but in it's place a deep and vivid crimson.

The color of wine.

The color of blood.

Her alabaster skin glowing slightly under the dim light, as she sat there on the bed, her hair tousled as she looked at him.

He had been talking to her for over an hour and a half.

He spoke to her with a mystic patience, explaining to her what he had done and what had happened.

Catering to all her questions and answered them truthfully with an honest heart.

At first he had expected her to be furious, yet she was completely calm. She understood every word he said with amazing comprehension.

He could not fathom it at first, he thought that she might not have understood the severity of her situation, but she did. More clearly so than he thought.

Her steady gaze holding on to him so intently as he spoke.

She accepted her fate without a qualm or any regret.

He was baffled by her, entranced by her mind at her easy acceptance to a fate so dark. He longed to ask her in turn a question but decided against it.

His guilt, making him ambivalent.

But his serene face did not betray the torment he endured within himself as he watched her quietly.

Her next question though, he was not prepared to answer.

"And my child?" She asks her ruby eyes fixed on him. "He is alright isn't he?"

He had averted his gaze as he shifted lightly in his seat.

"Isn't he?" She repeated, more fiercely this time.

"I'm sorry. . . ."

Esme suddenly remembers the doctor in her room.

"No, no, no," She mumbled under her breath.

"Esme. . ."

"NO!" She screamed.

She slid off the bed and started heading towards the two large double doors.

Carlisle quickly followed her and gently grabbed her by the elbow and turned her to face him.

"You cannot go back there. . ." He said quietly,

"No! I have-I have to get my baby..." She said, fighting for words.

"Your baby..." He took a pause, taking in a breath, "Your baby, passed away-"

"That's not true!" She said trying to free herself from his grasp, "He's alright, you don't understand. He needs me."

"Esme, Esme Listen to me," Carlisle said softly as he lifted her chin gently, "Your child passed away from a lung infection 3 days ago. . ."

She felt her knees shake as they gave way to the floor. Carlisle caught her in his arms before her skin touched the ground, kneeling down with her as he held her close.

She shook her head stubbornly as she fought his strength, struggling to free her hands from his.

_It's not true, it's lies, all lies. . ._

The pain she felt was far worse than any she had ever encountered.

The pain from the past.

The pain she had endured as a young girl due to the absence of a mother's loving comfort.

The pain Charles had given her.

The silent bitterness she endured within herself.

The pain she had suffered within the past few hours. All those things, all she had gone through paled in comparison to her feeling of loss.

That intangible yet incredibly agonizing realization that the one thing you have loved and protected the most.

Gone.

She felt a gaping wound within herself that was torn open. The wound was raw, and ran so deep she feared it might break her bones in half.

She felt like she had fallen into thin ice and was now being drowned, being pushed down into the black waters of despair by her pain.

The loss of a child.

Her _child._

The child is gone.

_He_ is gone.

"I have to go to him..." She said as her voice started breaking.

Carlisle kept firm in his grasp.

"Damn it let me go!" She cried as dry sobs wracked her body.

"Esme..." He whispered pleadingly as he leaned his forehead against hers. Holding her hands close to his chest.

He feared for her.

"No. . ." She moaned angrily through clenched teeth, "I don't deserve this life. . .I couldn't even save my child. . .What kind of mother dosn't save her  
child. . .Her own child. . ." She whispered. "I don't deserve to live. . ."

"It's not your fault..." He whispered to her.

"It's no one else's fault but my own. . ."

She slipped her hands from his and raced to the door within a second, proceeding to claw them open.

She realized the door had been locked, but that would not stop her as she caught a tight grip on the doorknob.

She was about to tear that piece of wood clean from it's frame when she felt him come up behind her.

He gently grabbed hold of her and held her by the waist.

"Let me go!" She screamed helplessly as he gently turned her over once more to face him.

"Damn it let me go!" She yelled as she started hitting and slapping him with her hands, Carlisle didn't even flinch as he endured her painful blows.

She broke into violent sobs once more as he softly seized her hands and held them close to him.

"Esme, please." He whispered into her ear, desperation in his voice.

He pulled her close to him as she shook with heavy sobs. She resisted him at first, trying to push him away but alas her arms felt feeble and her legs useless as she found herself melting in his arms, clinging to him like a child. The sounds of her sobs reverberating onto his skin through the thick layers of cloth.

He gently lifted her as he slid his arms under her legs and carried her back to the bed.

"I can't go on like this," She softly whispered into his chest, "You can't leave me to go on like this..."

He laid her down gently. Carlisle avoided her eyes so she would not see the burden of guilt he carried in them.

He veered his head away from her, "Please, forgive me."

She saw the tension that corded his neck; he proceeded to leave her bedside when her tender hands caught the hem of his sleeve.

"Please," She pleaded sounding more like a child than a woman, "Stay with me. . ." She whispered. The fear in her eyes, naked and bare.

He turned to look at her with those same benign eyes that burned with a golden fire.

"Stay with me, please." She repeated in that same soft helpless quiver.

His lips parted; ready to respond when a knock interrupted him.

"I'll be back." He said softly, his eyes never leaving her face.

She gave a small nod as she sunk further into the sheets, her eyes wary and pained.

Carlisle proceeded to close the door, leaving a small opening for her as he walked towards a tall figure that was standing calmly across from him, leaning against a door that was situated next to her room.

"Is she going to be alright?" Edward Cullen's voice pierced through the thick silence between them.

Carlisle exhaled deeply as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Carlisle, what if there is no hope?" He asked once more.

Carlisle raised his eyes as they fixated onto Edward's.

"There is always hope." He replies.

**A/N: New update! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Stay tuned for chapter 19! I LOVE you guys! Thank you so much for all your kind reviews! Please keep readin' and reviewin'!**

**They make me burst with rainbows and sparkles XD**

**GodBless!**

**And! Drumroll please haha! The reader who got my age right is Sarah Martin! Congratulations for getting it right! :D Haha and to make it MORE fun and fair since I LOVE you guys soooo super much, all you guys get to suggest a song so yay!**

**Get your favorite playlists and lay it on me :D**


	19. Into Night We Flee

Waiting for the sunrise as a new-born immortal felt like the longest hours of her new life.

The last night of her humanity was long and pained as her past memories became kaleidoscopic bursts of colours filled with such a vital force, that for a moment she was reminded of a certain sensation in her chest that no longer was.

Her skin is smooth as silk yet is hard as marble.

Yet she lives.

She wondered if she would ever be the same again.

Only time would tell.

She watches the sky with anticipatory eyes that glimmered like two rubies in the night, a soft frozen fire embedded in them.

The sky was slowly changing to lavender as the clouds parted, welcoming the golden sun into the sky with a renewed embrace.

She stood there by the window pane as she looked on. Her vampire eyes capturing every colour, every subtle change as the sun surges into the heavens with golden splendour.

It emerges gracefully from the black depths of night and into the awaiting horizon, it's golden rays dispelling the terrors of night.

For a moment she was reminded of the Greek myth about Persephone, dying in the cold winter yet returning in the warmth of spring to live again.

Her skin shimmers lightly at the soft rays of the sun. She watches with intense curiosity, feeling bemused as the light reflects onto her eyes, dancing with incandescent crystalline colours that at a first glance deemed almost too bright for her eyes.

She longed to stare in wonder at her new discovery but the shining rays of the sun had been eclipsed by heavy blankets of white clouds.

She sighed softly and proceeded deftly towards the bed.

She laid back down and stared at the white ceiling, letting her mind run free with her memories as they played out clearly in her mind.

Her youth.

Meeting Carlisle for the very first time, and the happiness she had known then.

The long hard years that followed after he left.

Charles.

Her _child._

She sat up abruptly. The memory still fresh and new as excruciating pain fills her mind with torment.

She covers her eyes with the palm of her hand as she tries to fight the emotions that threatened to break her.

_I'll never see you grow up._

_I'll never hear your voice calling me Mommy._

_I can never hold you again._

_But always know darling that Mommy always loves you, and she will never forget you._

_I'm so sorry, so sorry that I didn't fight for you hard enough._

_But do not ever think for a second that I did not love you, because I always will._

A quite sob escaped her lips as she curled herself into a ball, shutting her eyes tightly.

Wanting the world to disappear.

Wanting this invisible pain to end.

His early morning rounds had just finished.

He took his usual route back home, taking a quick shortcut through the green woodlands.

The forest ground crunching beneath his shoes at his gait, the air was fresh as the scent of wild nuts permeated his nose.

The day had promised sunlight, but the grey clouds looming in the distance could not be kept at bay as they hid the sun behind their thick blankets of cotton.

He was thankful for the change in weather. Morning rounds were quite dicey, especially in his situation, and he had no intention of letting the nature of his being exposed in the open.

He had to exercise caution and be completely inconspicuous.

It was vital, not only for his protection but theirs as well.

He walked in solitude with nothing but the tall trees surrounding him, he looked with his golden eyes at the soft leaves that gently billowed in the wind.

There was nothing more he enjoyed than being surrounded by the rustic forest, somehow being intertwined with nature made him feel less alone in his silent solitude. Deep down he had a feeling there was much more to discover here than in the known civilized world.

He was not a painter but he wished he could paint nature's beauty, in all it's gentle grace.

Persevering it for all time. But perhaps that's what made it so beautiful, knowing that they too would soon die, and would soon go into that one eternal peace that resembled sleep, and every moment needed to be cherished, adored before it was gone.

The way a blossom looked before it bloomed.

The way a green leaf would turn into the colour of autumn.

The way the night sky looked as the stars adorned the horizon with diamond lights.

Her _face._

Ever since he left her room that night, he could not get the image of her face out of his mind, her eyes that were filled with such naked innocence that they looked directly into his bare soul.

He feared for her and the emotions that are threatening to drown her once more into the black depths of pain.

He stood there at her doorstep that early morning before he left for the hospital, he could hear her quiet sobs from outside the door.

He wanted so desperately to enter her room and to console her in her moment of agony, to take away all that is hurting her, to give her comfort from what is tormenting her. But somehow something was preventing him.

Fear perhaps, but then again it was not fear.

It was something deeper; he could not put a name to it.

The mansion was in plain view as he proceeded to its entrance.

He walked past the threshold as he closed the door behind him.

He shed his outer coat as he hanged it on the coat hanger, placing his black medical bag next to it.

The house was silent; he stared out at the cavernous foyer ahead of him and proceeded to the stairs.

He was about to make a turn to where her room was situated when a voice from the other end of the hall spoke.

"She's not in her room." Edward said as he came up to Carlisle, his hands brimming with sheet music.

"Where is she?" He replied.

"The library." Edward said.

"Has she met you yet?"

"No." Edward said with a small smirk.

Carlisle shook his head, "I think you should have introduced yourself first Edward."

"I didn't want to just yet. It was sort of interesting to watch her wander through the mansion by herself."

"Hmmm." Carlisle replied giving his adoptive son a look.

"I don't think she knows I'm here yet."

"Well you should have made your presence known in the first place." Carlisle scolded gently.

Edward rolled his eyes lightly.

"Edward..."

"Alright, alright. Fine later tonight, I still need to finish these." He conceded as he showed Carlisle the music sheets he had been writing.

"Very well." Carlisle replied as he patted his son on the shoulder.

He watched Edward exit into his bedroom as he closed the door behind him.

Carlisle gave a soft chuckle as he thought of his son's ways around new people. He found it amusing to watch them from a silent distance without any notion that he was there.

Edward liked to call it observing.

Carlisle shook his head in wry mirth as he thought about it.

Especially with Edward's gift of telepathy, there wasn't a thought he could not hear.

He proceeded down the mahogany stairwell as he adjusted the sleeve on his indigo blue polo.

He turned to the familiar corner at the end of the corridor and paused slightly as he found the door.

He took a pause and inhaled deeply as he grasped the door handle.

He entered quietly, his eyes searching the room for her.

Carlisle's eyes landed on a figure that was comfortably bundled on his favorite chair that was situated next to the large glass window.

He could hear her hum softly as she thumbed her fingers through the pages of a book she had been reading.

He caught sight of a vague glimmer on the side of her cheek, but before he could say anything her eyes were on him.

"Good morning." He said softly as he closed the door behind him.

A gentle smile touched her lips as she saw him.

She closed the book and placed it behind her.

Carlisle walked up to where she sat.

"How do you feel? He asked gently.

"Not too well." She replied quietly, her eyes suddenly sombre.

His brows furrowed as he nodded infinitesimally.

"But a little better." She added.

His eyes met hers.

"That's good," He replied, gently tucking a stray lock of caramel hair behind her ears.

"Your library is beautiful," She said with quiet adoration. Her eyes moving from each panel that was brimming with ancient textbooks filled with forgotten histories and laced with lost tales and legends.

"What have you been reading?" He asked, curiosity in his voice.

"Oh," She spun around in her seat and showed him the familiar sepia coloured book.

"Myths Of The Sahara." He said, his voice having the consistency of honey.

"It's lovely." She replied, smiling at him, "I do hope you don't mind me coming in here," She asked with eyes lowered, her voice small.

"Of course not," He replied, returning her smile. "You can come here as often as you like."

"Thank you," She whispered.

She stood up from her seat, the gloomy light from outside reflecting in her eyes.

His breath caught in his throat.

Her eyes were slowly fading from red to the familiar colour of black.

She would need to feed soon.

"Esme, I'd like to teach you to hunt this evening." He said,

She cocked her head in confusion, "Hunt?" Then last night's conversation dawned upon her, "Oh, hunt." The timbre in her next words was filled with uncertainty, "Alright."

He was about to say something else when he noticed she was still wearing the hospital gown.

She noticed his reaction before he could say a word.

"I think I need to shower." She said, swallowing hard.

"Yes of course," He gently lead her out of the library and through the door, "The guest bathroom is up the stairs to the right."

"But I don't have anything to wear." She said mostly to herself than him.

He saw the look on her face, "I think I have something that will temporarily suffice."

The guest bathroom was modestly large, with white Italian tiles and a porcelain tub that seemed to almost take half the space of the room.

She closed the door and started to undress, feeling quite self-conscious as she avoided her reflection in the mirror.

She stepped onto the shower, letting the warmth of the water douse her pale body as she slowly worked a rich lather of soap onto her skin.

Carlisle emerged from his room as he headed towards the guest bathroom, he could hear her soft hums from inside as he knocked,

"Esme, I'm going to put your clothes in your room alright?"

He could hear her muffled reply from behind the door.

She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself as she reached for the door handle; she peeked out the hallway to find it empty.

She then ran tiptoed towards her room and closed the door behind her.

On her bed was a neatly folded peach-coloured dressing shirt.

A few moments later she heard a knock.

"Come in." She said.

Carlisle stepped in, his eyes found their way to her gentle frame that was covered by his dressing shirt.

It was obviously too large for her.

But she never looked more beautiful as the shirt tail of cloth hung loosely above her knees.

She gave a crooked little smile as she fumbled with the sleeves.

He walked over to help her, "Here, allow me," He said softly as he rolled the first sleeve all the way up neatly, stopping at her delicate elbows and repeated the same action as he did the left.

"Thank you," She said as her eyes rose to meet his.

Her dark pupils glimmering as they held onto his with those searching looks of longing.

"Your hair is still wet," He said, breaking the intensity of their eyes as he reached for the towel she had laid on the bed.

"Turn around," He said gently.

She did as she was told as he started drying the ends of her hair with gentle strokes, lightly squeezing the excess water onto the towel.

Esme could feel his fingertips softly brushing across the nape of her neck.

"The hunt tonight," She said as he continued drying her hair.

"Yes?" He answered from behind.

"Will it be difficult for me?"

"No, I'll be right there with you." He replied assuring her.

She cleared her throat nervously, "What exactly...What exactly do we eat?" She somehow knew asking that question was preposterous, because she already had the notion. But she needed to hear the answer from him.

Carlisle smiled softly and said, "No need to distress yourself, we feed on animal blood." She tilted her head slightly as she absorbed the answer. "And this is enough to satisfy our...hunger?" She said as she swallowed coarsely.

Carlisle's brows furrowed as the lines drew themselves onto the plains of his forehead, she could feel his breath escape his mouth. "To nourish us yes and to satisfy our hunger. The blood lust is your greatest challenge as a new-born." Esme listened to him as she turned to face him. "How were you able to last as long as you have by simple means of animal blood?" She asked, her voice sounding perplexed.

"Gargantuan amounts of patience and exercise in control. It isn't easy or simple, it takes quite a while to achieve, but in the end it is worth it."

"I don't want to hurt anybody." She whispered, "Please help me." She asked, her eyes pleading with him.

"I will." He replied.

Now it was a simple matter of waiting for the night.

**A/N: Hey Guys! Sorry for the delay please forgive me :), but here is chapter 19! I hope you guys enjoy and THANK YOU sooo much for all your awesome reviews! I LOVE YOU GUYS! You are the BEST! :)**

**Haha and yes I am 18 years old XD You guys got me XD**

**Please keep readin' and reviewin'! They make me giggle with happiness excessively XD**

**God Bless and stay tuned for chapter 20 weow!**


	20. Let's Get Lost

"Is it possible for vampires to hyperventilate?" Esme asked as she wrung her hands nervously, biting her lower lip as she took in a shaky breath.

Carlisle chuckled lightly as he placed his hands on her shoulder, "You'll be just fine."

"But what if...What if I attack a person instead of an animal?" She asked; panic slowly starting to rise in her voice, "Oh good heavens! What if I kill an old lady? An innocent and old and cookie baking old lady?!" She exclaimed loudly.

By now her mind was getting the best of her.

"Esme-"

"No Carlisle, I don't want to kill someone's grandmother! I just want to feed on an animal, that's it."

Carlisle tried to fight back another chuckle.

The panic was starting to make her wry comedic sense of humour come out into the surface.

Esme turned to look at Carlisle.

"This isn't funny! Not at all. I'm going to become an animal killer; I don't want to kill rabbits." She moaned.

"Esme," Carlisle whispered, placating her as he cupped her face softly between his hands, "You're going to be alright, I'll be right there with you."

She closed her eyes for a brief moment at the contact of his cool skin against hers, somehow she was tempted to lean into his touch but her thoughts were brought back down to reality as he spoke once more.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

She took one more deep breath as she slipped off her slippers. Tossing them to the side, letting her bare feet touch the earth, "I'm ready." She answered.

They were facing the forest entrance located not far from the cavernous mansion. It was quite dark with the tall masts of trees swaying idly in the wind, but with their sharp vision there was nothing they would not miss.

The sky was a lovely shade of midnight-blue, with a distinct crescent moon glowing high in the horizon with a sardonic smile. A few murky-grey rain clouds esoterically scattered onto it's plains.

A single pair of stars shone indifferently amidst the blanketed sky that evening, like a pair of silver eyes surreptitiously glancing down at them in delighted curiosity.

Carlisle initiated their run with a gentle tap on her elbow, motioning her to follow him.

They started with a brief jog, Carlisle letting Esme run ahead of him as he kept a close eye on her. They soon started changing paces as they ascended their natural inhuman speed that is too fast for mere mortal eyes to see.

He was right behind her as they ran. Her caramel locks billowing in the air as traces of her scent trailed it's way into his nose, the same sweet aroma that was delicately distinct yet to which words could not describe and could not possibly belong to anyone else but her.

As he continued to keep his watch, he stifled a secret smile as he continued to follow her.

Somehow watching her run through the forest in his dressing shirt, barefooted with her hair in a complete disarray was incredibly endearing, enticing in fact.

The way her hips swayed gently as her slender legs ploughed their way through the forest ground looking every bit of a forest nymph. Somehow his breath slowed to a crawl as her eyes looked back at him every once a moment for reassurance to which he gave generously.

A beauty to which holds the secret desires of his heart.

Esme sails swiftly through the forest as Carlisle looks on at a close distance.

Like two children in the night. In a garden filled with emerald leaves and dark silk, surrounded by earthly creatures that looked on wary eyed at their mysterious visitors.

She was a soul who had died and yet was learning to live again.

In many ways she was like a bird.

A fledgling learning to fly with crystal-wings as she soars over the forest with airy footfalls.

She was alive again.

Her feral instincts were starting to take over as she caught scent of a very large animal, it's beating heart taunting her with it's pulsating rhythm that echoed a few kilometers east from where they were.

Carlisle caught the scent too as they followed it's trail.

She was starting to gain speed at an intensely rapid rate, her throat suddenly going extremely dry and scratchy as they neared the beast. Her feet furiously scraping it's way onto the ground as she lead the chase, kicking dirt behind her as she ran. The ground ruffling at her gracefully yet savage gait.

They both came to a sudden halt, the prey was in sight.

Carlisle and Esme stood behind a large oak tree as they watched the enormous deer pause to nibble on bits of grass.

It was definitely male, judging from it's antlers. It had just reached maturity, the soft coat of fur on it's back, fresh from adolescence.

They both crouched low behind a bush as they continued to watch.

Esme was starting to feel incredibly restless; it was beginning to be unbearable.

She gritted her teeth, grinding them repeatedly to keep herself calm.

But at any moment she knew she would no longer be able to hold the primal urge in.

"Esme," Carlisle whispered as he continued to keep a watchful eye on the prey, "I want you to-"

Carlisle felt a cool wind brush past him.

He turned to find Esme gone from his side, his eyes snapped back to the deer.

Esme was pouncing at the unsuspecting animal at full speed, like a hungry lioness in the wilderness slaking in her thirst in a crimson lake.

_Oh dear._

She was definitely hungry.

And dinner was served.

"So? How did I do?" Esme asked as a sheepish smile touched her lips, her eyes found his through the darkness.

They were making their way through the forest in the dark, finding the familiar path that was lighted by the moon, the path that led them back into civilization.

"Quite good," Carlisle replied taking a quick glance at her as he smiled.

Their decision to walk back to the mansion was completely unbidden and unplanned, yet was agreed upon silently in mutual understanding.

"Quite good as in good that I was able to not kill an old lady?" She joked, a crooked smirk tugging on her mouth.

He laughed with such a soft timbre that it was sweet and melodious to the ears, "Yes, tonight a sweet old woman's life is spared."

Esme giggled, "Why thank you kind sir, I believe a reward shall be in order?" She mused.

"Yes, yes indeed." Carlisle replied as he walked over a few meters ahead of her, disappearing for a moment as he was consumed by the darkness.

"Carlisle?" Esme called out.

He re-emerged a few seconds later carrying her white slippers.

"Oh," She said under her breath.

He walked over to her as he smiled.

"I do really think Cinderella's slippers should be returned, don't you think?"

Esme laughed lightly.

Carlisle knelt in front of her as he gently took Esme's ankle and placed the slipper snugly onto her feet, "I'm afraid they are not made of glass." He said with a gentle chuckle as he placed the second slipper on.

"They will do just fine." Esme replied as she smiled down at him.

They continued their walk in comfortable silence, relishing in the enjoyment of each other's company.

The mansion was soon in view as they resurfaced from the dark forest.

The pale moonlight giving their skin a hazed glow as they walked through the open plains.

Esme's senses now fully awakening to their pristine and inhumanly acute prowess. It was as if someone had taken her from a world that was fading with time and brought into a new dimension that seemed to be a constant wonder to her.

The air never more sweeter and clearer.

The sounds of mother nature gently murmuring into her ear with sounds of the earth.

Her eyes to which saw even the smallest of creatures with a single glance.

The world was slowly opening it's secrets to her once more, welcoming her into it's embrace with outstretched arms, the secrets of nature to which she had almost forgotten as a child.

Carlisle watched her in silent amusement as she wandered further ahead of him.

Esme noticed he was far behind her and decided to slow down her pace as she motioned him over to her.

They were now walking side by side, the mansion barely a few meters away from them.

"Carlisle?" She said softly.

"Mmmm?" He replied as he took a sideways glance at her.

"I'd like to apologize for...for what happened the other night...when I..." She gulped as she forced the words out, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit you..."

She took a pause as she faced him. Unconsciously placing a hand to his cheek as she examined it.

"I didn't-"

Carlisle's stare had deepened as his eyes glimmered demurely in the dark.

He raised his hand as it covered hers that held his cheek against her delicate palm.

"It's alright, don't apologize," He whispered, "I know you are hurting."

Her lips threatened to quiver under his golden stare as she licked her lips, the aftertaste of the night's kill still in her breath.

He was about to say something when she spoke once more, "Carlisle, who was that strange boy I saw watching me from one of the rooms?"

He chuckled as their contact broke, "Come I'll give you both a proper introduction," He said as he gently took her by the hand and lead her back to the mansion.

"I want you to know first of all he has the gift of telepathy. Privacy will definitely be a challenge."

Esme gave out a little chuckle, "He sounds like fun."

They entered the large home, the house filled with the gentle echoes of a melodic piano.

"He's in the living room," Carlisle said as he closed the door behind them.

They both took a right, past the foyer as they stood behind two large heavy-looking mahogany double doors.

He opened the door for her as she stepped inside.

The living room was definitely larger than she expected, with opulent frescoes and vintage tapestry that must have dated back to the late 1800s at the most, with maroon carpets and lush drapery that kept the large mosiac glass window hidden beneath it's thick cloth.

Her eyes fell upon a handsome young boy no older than 18 with lovely copper hair. A slight frown creased his lovely features as he continued his playing with quiet intensity, coaxing the melody to life with his touch.

Before they had even entered the house, he already heard them.

"Edward," Carlisle called as he came up from behind Esme.

Edward glanced up as he saw the latter entering the room, he stopped his playing and slowly stood up and walked towards them.

His tall-lean frame silhouetted by the chandelier light as he approached them both.

"Edward this is Esme, she will be staying with us from now on." Carlisle said as he nodded at Edward.

"Hello Edward," Esme said as she shook his hand, smiling warmly, "You play beautifully." She said to him.

"Thank you." He says shyly with a smile.

Carlisle slowly took a step back as he silently excused himself. Taking a seat from the farther end of the room as he left the two to get acquainted.

"May I watch you play? Please?" Esme asked.

"Of course, you can sit with me if you like." Edward replied with a bashful smile.

Carlisle looked on with gentle eyes as he watched the two from a distance, folding his well sculpted arms across his torso.

Edward was quite shy when he meets new people, always keeping to himself and never saying much at all.  
Which was sort of the opposite combination to the gift he posessed. Since he himself heard even the most private thoughts of others, the thoughts he himself carried remained silent and elusive.

But somehow with Esme's warmth and charm there was little one could do to refuse her.

Edward was the type who wouldn't let strangers hear him play unless he knew them well enough or felt at ease with their presence.

Like him, Edward is too a solitary being.

But as Carlisle watched his adoptive son play for Esme, he knew somehow that she was going to be an important part of their lives.

Esme watched through her newly golden eyes as the young boy skilfully caressed each key with gentle fingers, the music reverberating into her ears as it's melodic notes danced throughout the room.

Edward took a pause as he glanced next to Esme, his eyes silently observing her as he smiled.

"Why did you stop? That was so wonderful Edward, do please continue," She said as she looked at him.

"Well, perhaps there is something you'd like me to play for you?" He said as he waited for her answer.

"Really?" Esme asked as Edward nodded in reply, her smile lighting her face as she thought.

"Do you know Chopin Nocturne number 20?"

"Yes." He replied with a small smirk.

"Play it for me?" She said in her honey-sweet tone.

"I'd love to."

He resumed his position as he proceeded to play once more in perfect motion, each note clear and pure beneath his fingertips as the haunting melody hung over the air like a velvet cloth.

Edward took one more curious look at Esme.

And he knew, as she returned to glance at him with that soft smile.

They were going to get along just fine.

**A/N: Hey Guys! Here's chapter 20 just for you :) THANK YOU so much! For all your lovely comments and reviews, you don't know how happy I am just by reading them :)**

**I love each and every one of you beautiful people and please do keep readin' and reviewin'!**

A lovely reviewer of mine requested that I do a more light-hearted chapter so here it is! I hope you enjoy :)  


**Stay tuned for chapter 21! Weow! and as a treat to all you lovely people out there I shall give you a clue as to what chapter 21 may contain try listening to The Very Thought Of You - Nat King Cole and tell me what you guys think :)**

**And! A big congratulations and a warm good luck to one of my reviewers who is going to do a piano recital soon, I wish you a lot of luck and love! :) And of course I do care! You are very awesome yourself so go rock it out! :)**


	21. Paramours Of Night

Autumn came once more; it's gold and rustic beauty spreading throughout the outskirts of Ashland in resonant breezes, bringing with it, the breath of winter.

It turned the surrounding forest into a sea of red and gold leaves as the idyllic days passed, one after the other.

As her time in the mansion wore on, Edward's shy demeanour when he first met her was slowly changing as he warmed up to her in a considerably short amount of time.

Esme liked to consider her new relationship him as like being two peas in a pod.

He would play for her and she would spend long and blissful hours listening to him.

She was adjusting well to her new life, as strange and different it may be.

Her head on his shoulder as he slid his fingers through each key gracefully. The air filled with his melodious notes as it covers them in sweet content, and when a frown would crease his face, she would lightly tease him into laughter as she softly tapped the edge of his nose in delighted mirth.

Esme and Carlisle's relationship grew and evolved as each day passed. She found his little ritual of tugging unconsciously at his right sleeve when he thinks she isn't looking incredibly endearing.

When a moment alone was spared between them, she would begin to pay discreet attention to the little facets about him that intrigued her so even as a young adolescent girl.

But only at a demure distance.

The hypnotic look his eyes carried when he was not looking at her. When he was lost in his own thoughts, the way his accent would unbiddenly slip through his words when he would speak, or the way he held her stare with such visceral clarity that it was almost impossible not to drown in those golden irises.

His heart though still it may be, is strong. Yet contained such a sensitive vulnerability that he kept heavily concealed.

Hidden beneath dark curtains that time had passed over the centuries undetected.

Yet now when she lived under his roof Carlisle still retained that mystic air around him that was shrouded in such deep mystery that she found herself wondering often as she had did several countless times in the past, what intricate thoughts must have passed his mind that were kept hidden from his lips?

Only Edward would know.

And it was not in her nature to pry.

Unless the occasion called for it.

But each time he looked at her with those golden stares, instinct told her the answer was not as elusive as it may appear to be.

Esme grew quite fond of Carlisle's library and spends most of her time there, huddled in the leather bound embrace of its books. Somehow reading was her way of escaping. She is still ever so often haunted by memories of her human life and somehow she had found refuge in the never-ending ocean of books his library contained.

Her own way of numbing the pain, numbing the memories, somehow stumbling through it's ink filled pages for relief of the past and it's misery.

As the weeks passed she slowly began teaching herself to draw, Edward was sweet enough to provide her with all the paper and pencils she required.

And it was all the materials she needed to create her secret works of art.

Her newly-found talent though would not go unnoticed by the third resident of the mansion.

Somehow she noticed as the days passed by, the world seemed larger. Different yet it remained the same.

But she knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

The road ahead was filled with infinite possibilities to which she could partake in, yet something dawned upon her.

_Time._

One early evening, in late November.

She was in the guest bathroom, ready to take a shower.

She was in nothing more than a simple white robe. She had slowly slipped out of it as she let it slide down the white tiled floor. Her first instinct was to avoid the mirror and head straight for the bath, but on this particular evening something stopped her.

She took in a breath and walked up to the spotless mirror, her bare feet making its way across the room.

She kept her eyes closed halfway there, and once she knew she had arrived at her destination she opened them once more.

She was an image of utter beauty and loveliness.

Somehow not quite the image she expected to see, somehow she had expected to see something else.

Her face was hers, yet she no longer felt the same.

She felt like someone different.

Who this new person is, she did not know.

She looked into her own golden eyes as a sigh escaped her lips.

She felt _lost._

Esme looked on at her reflection, a feeling of uncertainty hovering above her as her eyes made their way from her beautiful face and down to her body as she meticulously traced ever line, every angle, every soft curve that she could find.

And then it occurred to her once more as it did in that time in the living room with Edward.

_Time._

Time is gone.

There are no more minutes to count, no hours to be lost, no seconds to pass.

Her time was infinite.

Imminent.

_Permanent._

She would always be timeless. Deathless.

Her face forever the same.

Aging was no longer a possibility. As she thought upon this realization, it reminded her of a thought she had carried in her mind once as a child. Her youthful ideas on the very fact of aging consisted of grey hair, wrinkled skin and sagging breasts that time could not possibly fix. But as she stood there in all her eternal beauty, that perception of life is somehow altered. Perhaps for all time.

Somehow aside from that newly found notion, Esme knew she could no longer produce children.

And it is the one thing that hurts her the most with violent pangs of pain.

Now only two more question remains.

With all that endless time to spend.

_When does eternity begin? After all that is said and done, what is there left to do?_

It was the first of December, past 5 in the afternoon.

Light was beginning to fade as the leafless trees stood in adamant statures, deftly awaiting the first frozen snowflake to fall.

The air was light and cold, night would follow quickly soon after.

Carlisle was in his room dark panelled room, staring out at the open balcony as he watched Edward enter the nubile forest to hunt.

Esme would be the only one in the house, her and him.

He stepped away from the balcony window and took a pause as he stood a foot away from his bed.

There it was sitting on top of his cream coloured eiderdown, a perfectly squared medium sized brown package that was tied up with a simple white string.

He wondered secretly to himself whether she would like it or not.

He stepped out of his room and quietly closed the door behind him. The air was starting to grow cooler but he felt no chill as he made his way out of the long corridors, making a sharp turn as he descended the stairs.

He made a mental note to contact the sales woman in town with whom he had filed an order from, the clothes he had requested for Esme had still not arrived.

Not that he complained, he rather quite enjoyed seeing her in his dressing shirts. He found her completely ravishing in them in fact.

He remembered an amusing memory that happened not long but a mere few days ago.

Carlisle had been working the graveyard shift once more at the hospital, he had just finished a gruelling three hour surgery and had to come back home quickly to bathe and change his clothes before his early dawn rounds started. Somehow the specific dressing shirt he had chosen to wear on that day was the peach coloured polo she had worn on her first night, it had already been sent to the cleaners yes, but yet her softly feminine scent still lingered within the fabric.

He went to the hospital later that morning. His mind completely clouded by her scent.

Carlisle had the brown package tucked under his arm as he found the brass doorknob that led to the library.

He knocked softly and waited for a reply.

Nothing.

He knocked again and waited.

Silence.

He pushed the door open and walked past the threshold, closing the door behind him as he entered.

His eyes search the dimly lit room that was lighted by a cheerful fire burning in the old fireplace.

She was not there. But then he saw something sticking out, something out of place. He could not see it properly due to the large chestnut sofa that was blocking his view. As he walked towards it, he noticed it was a bare foot, _her _bare foot.

He shook his head as he chuckled quietly. He walked closer and found that she was sprawled out on the carpeted floor. She was wearing his indigo blue dressing shirt this time, the dark contrast of the fabric only served to enhance the pale glow that radiated from her skin, Esme was completely surrounded by large books and several scattered pieces of paper that were filled with half sketched drawings.

He could see she was still working on a drawing as her delicate fingers manuvered the pencil around the white sheet.

He stands next to the sofa, somehow not wanting to disturb her in her time of creativity. He would have been merely content to just stand there and look at her for the rest of the evening, but as he felt the crinkle of the brown package under his arm his resolve broke.

"Esme," He softly called out.

Her head turns slowly as she smiles sweetly, "Hello Carlisle."

He made his way onto the sofa as he sits himself down, "I have something for you," He says as he hands her the brown package.

Her eyes dance with curiosity as she holds the package in her hands, "What is it for?" She asks.

"Consider it an early Christmas present." He replies as he looks at her from his seat. The fire burning from behind her creating soft yellow light that traces itself onto her caramel locks.

She sits up cross-legged and places the package in front of her as she begins to undo it's string.

For a moment he is frozen as he sees the gold necklace hanging around her neck, it's heart pendant resting contentedly at the very hollow of her throat.

He quickly averts his gaze before she could see.

The package contained a very large sketchpad that was meticulously binded by black leather and on top of it were several myriads of charcoal pencils.

"Carlisle..." She exclaimed softly as she ran her fingers across it's smooth white pages.

"It's drawing material I had sent from Paris, I do hope you'll like it." He said with a gentle smile.

"It's lovely," She said setting it down as she stood up, her eyes filled with warm gratitude.

Carlisle got up from his seat, rising to his full height as he towered above her.

"You deserve it. You are a very talented artist, Esme." He said, his voice almost lowering into a whisper.

Awkwardly he held out his hand for her to shake, but she shook her head and walked past his outstretched arm and embraced him. Standing on the tip of her toes as she wrapped her arms around his neck, "Thank you," She said warmly into his ear.

Somehow her gentle action rendered him motionless for a moment, his arms feeling like lead for a quick second before he gently returned her embrace. Feeling somehow dazed as he breathed in her sweet scent.

He wanted their embrace to have lasted longer but he felt her slowly unwrap herself from his arms.

She smiled once more at him as she spoke, "Sit with me by the fire?" She motioned to an empty spot on the carpet next to her as she made herself comfortable.

He smiled lightly and followed her actions as he crouched down low next to her.

She quickly grabs the drawing she been working on and places it on top of her new sketch book as she uses one of her new charcoal pencils to line the mysterious drawing.

She was working rather fervently on this particular sketch, Carlisle could hear the sound of her quick and agile motions of the charcoal pencil scraping it's way onto the paper.

It was difficult to take a surreptitious glance at what she was working on, for she was seated in a position that was facing him.

"I apologize by the way for the delay in your clothing," He said quietly, "They were supposed to arrive today, the sales woman was rather confusing when it came to measurements."

"It's fine," Esme replied as soft mirth played upon her lips, "I'm growing quite fond of your dressing shirts,"

She could just imagine him in that little store with that darlingly lost look in his eyes. She bit back a smile as she hid her face beneath her hair.

He leaned his back against the sofa seat as he watched her in amused wonder and quiet curiosity.

Esme glanced up at him and saw the look on his face as she answered his silent question, "You'll see in a moment," She said as a crooked smirk escaped her lips.

She could still feel his eyes on her as she stifled a smile.

Carlisle tilted his head lightly to the left.

"Don't move." She commanded.

Carlisle laughed softly, "As you wish, mademoiselle artiste."

She shook her head as she smiled at him.

"There was a dress I picked out for you," He whispered quietly. The depth in his eyes growing serious as he spoke.

"Really?" She replied without looking up, her swift hands moving around the white paper.

"It reminded me of the night you came to the clinic." His eyes lingered in the mellow flames that danced erratically before them.

She caught his eye as her movements came to a halt and her breath ceasing for a moment.

Suddenly as she sat there so close to him, she was no longer the grown woman she thought she was. But instead she was that young girl of 16 trembling and clumsy, looking at him with glossy eyes of secret adoration, looking at his beautiful face made the memory of that night come flooding back into her mind. Fresh and clear as glass itself.

A long silence followed them both soon after, either of them lost in their own thoughts.

They stayed that way for almost 15 minutes, her left leg outstretched as her foot rested lightly against his knee. He continued to stare at her when she did not noticed, entranced by her beauty. Tracing her eyes, her soft cheeks, the bridge of her nose, the way her lip delicately curved at the bottom, the way the warm golden embers from the fire reflected in her eyes and how it reminds him of the glistening sands of Egypt.

But he does not tell her this as she continues to draw.

After a few more minutes she finishes the drawing.

She moves closer to him as she shows Carlisle the finished product, barely aware of their covered arms brushing against each other as they sat.

The drawing was a superb intricate sketch of his face. She captured the very essence of it perfectly. She had drawn effortlessly the incandescent detail of his eyes and the look they carried when his gaze is fixated onto a particular object, even the way he carried his soft lips.

"Is this how I really look like?" He asked, his eyes staring out in wonder at the drawing in his hand.

"Mhmm." She replied as she smiled, "Wonderfully lovely as the first day I met you," She said quietly.

"You still remember?" He spoke, the traces of his accent lingering in his voice.

"How could I forget?" She replied, her eyes suddenly narrowed down to her fingers. Her breath threatening to quicken.

"This is lovely, Esme." He said trying to avert the impending unspoken conversation that was about to take place.

"You can have it, my gift for you." She said meeting his eyes again.

He found himself leaning closer to her, some invisible force pushing him forward, it was futile to resist. He could feel her breath on his face.

Her lips were parted but no words left them, her eyes were completely locked onto his.

The anticipation in the air between them was heavy and thick.

A lock of hair was sprawled out lightly against her face as he raised his hand and tucked it neatly behind her ear, his ambiguous intentions baffling him as he tried to regain his composure, fighting the seducing temptations that clouded his thoughts. But before he could retrieve his hand, hers found his as she softly guided it to her cheek, leaning into his touch as she closed her eyes.

They were seated so closely now that there was hardly any space between them. He gently slid his hand down to her chin as he slowly urged it upwards in silent encouragement; somehow the barrier between them was already being breached in full force. There was no stopping now, their breath mingling with each other as their lips close the remaining spaces between them with single-minded determination, each second passing only to heighten the thirst that their souls craved for in hushed secrecy.

Time stopped as their lips were desperately inches apart, both high from the intoxicating ecstasy that surged through their veins. Both of them relishing in the moment, in this moment that belonged to them and them alone.

The world was slowly drifting away as Carlisle's lips brushed against hers by a fraction of a second, her arms wrapping themselves once more onto his neck as she leaned further into him, beckoning him to her with soft breaths.

He could no longer fight her, his senses were beginning to blur. The taste of her lips stripped him of his strength and will completely, there was only sweet surrender to this fiery battle of self-control.

His strong arms laced themselves onto her waist, pulling her closer to him with a gentle grab. Wanting to lose himself completely in her soft caresses as her delicate fingers found the infinitesimal buttons of his collar, a frission of trepidation flowed through him at the thought of the buttons coming undone.

One simple knock of the door sent them both crashing back down to earth.

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's chapter 21! I hope you enjoy! THANK YOU for all your lovely reviews and I hope you all have a wonderful and blessed Easter :) I LOVE you guys! God bless!**

**Stay tuned for Chapter 22! And please keep Readin' and Reviewin'! It makes me incredibly insane with happiness XD**


	22. Stay

They had quickly pulled apart, with hidden reluctance.

Their shaky breaths the only tangible sound that hung over the air for a few long moments.

Either of them feeling like badly behaved children.

The knock from the door still persisted.

Carlisle slowly got up from his seat, "I shan't be a moment," He whispered, his eyes finding their way to her face.

Esme nodded in reply, not daring to trust the emotion in her voice, taking deep inhalations of air to calm herself down.

He walked to the door, his elegant stature moving swiftly across the room. He had unconsciously licked his lips, the seducing taste of her skin on his mouth.

Her scent.

Her touch.

Halfway before he reached the door, he quickly shifted his thoughts before Edward could hear. But he knew somehow it was almost impossible to hide anything from that boy.

He grasped the doorknob and opened.

"What is it?" Carlisle asked, faint traces of agitation in his voice.

Edward smirked sheepishly as he averted his gaze to the floor, "The clothes you ordered have arrived."

"And?"

"The courier needs your personal signature."

Carlisle let out an exasperated sigh as he stepped out of the room.

Edward noticed the beginning part of Carlisle's collar had been undone, "Seems like time alone between the both of you has done you some good Carlisle." He said with a sly smile.

He gave Edward a death glare that had a dozen different significances as he swept past his son and out into the corridor.

_Do NOT go into the library Edward, I mean it._

Carlisle spoke clearly in his thoughts knowing well enough Edward heard him.

Back inside the library, Esme could hear footsteps beginning to move further away from the door.

She let out a sigh of relief.

She sunk further into her seat, resting her head on the sofa cushion.

She closed her eyes.

She could still feel his arms around her, the feeling of his presence lingering in the air above her.

His smell.

His lips.

His taste.

Her mouth still flushed from his kiss.

_What had just happened?_ She asked wryly to herself.

It was as if the gap between them, that invisible fortress that kept them separated had just been obliterated.

Erupting into tiny insignificant pieces that dissolved into the ground until there was nothing left standing in between them.

The sudden shift in the atmosphere was vividly palpable.

Could it be possible that this man, this wonderful creature, this angelic seraph in disguise, could possibly share the same divinely intimate secret as she?

She dared not ponder on the question.

Esme did not want the answer, just yet.

She needed to know if this was right, if this was true, if this was just.

Letting the waters of time take her where it wills.

She didn't want to think about tomorrow and it's uncertainties, nor the next day and what precarious events it may contain.

What she wanted was right here, in this moment.

She didn't want to think, all she wanted to do was to _feel_.

As long as it was there. As long as _he_ was there, she would be eternally grateful.

She would not need to feel his touch nor taste his lips, just the presence of his whole being would be enough for her, just to know he's there was enough to slake the thirst in her soul.

There was one remaining question left unspoken, it lingered in her lips but she dare not speak the words.

Fearful of the terrible blow it may inflict upon her.

But for now she allowed the mysterious question to sink back further into the depths of her mind, willing herself to forget, just for a while as she heard his familiar footsteps approaching the door.

She quickly propped herself up and sat herself properly this time on the sofa.

The slight creaking of the door caused her to look where he stood.

There was an extremely apologetic and worried look on his face as he entered, closing the door behind him quietly.

She looked at him expectantly as he slowly made his way towards her.

She could sense the tension in his body with each step he took.

He stopped a few meters away from where she sat. Somehow chastising himself for what he had done.

Esme silently studied him as the light from the fire reflected onto his face. Tracing every perfected line with it's sleepy glow.

His lips parted, his eyes narrowed, yet his face remained somehow impassive, "I...I'm deeply sorry for what had-"

"Please don't say you're sorry." She whispered, stopping him halfway with her words.

He nodded as he bowed his head lightly, his brows furrowing. "I should go."

He was about to turn on his heel and leave but then she stopped him once more, this time with more determination.

"No. Stay, please?" She gently pleaded.

Looking at that face.

_Her_ face.

He knew there was no way in winning this self-battle, to which he fought with masked-silence that no one knew except him who would be victorious.

He couldn't say no.

He took the seat next to her, offering them an appropriate amount of space, judging from what had almost happened, they needed it.

His body was tense, almost rigid. "I don't think I should stay long." He quietly murmured, his eyes focusing on the soft flames.

"No, I want you to stay this time. Don't go." Esme whispered tucking her legs neatly underneath her as she leaned her elbow against the armrest.

"We didn't do anything wrong." She said mostly to herself than him.

He watched her with his gentle eyes as she spoke. "We could just talk," She reasoned.

He looked at her for a long moment before nodding infinitesimally as he smiled gently at her. He felt quite unsure at his present circumstance but somehow something was urging him to be calm, to be collected. Perhaps it was the way she was looking at him, the way her golden eyes observed him with such guileless intentions that finally convinced him to lower his protective cloak ever so lightly. He released the tension he carried and allowed himself to lean back into his seat. Placing his hands chastely onto his torso, for fear they might wander, elsewhere...

They sat in contented silence for a few moments before he spoke, "Your clothes had just arrived," He said softly.

Her eyes glistened demurely in the yellow light as she smiled, "Really?"

"I do hope you'll like them."

"Thank you Carlisle," She said earnestly as she turned to look at him, her topaz eyes locking onto his once more.

The timbre in her voice made him ache for her desperately. He wanted her next to him, _closer_ to him.

But he needed to think of what was best for her, what she wanted and how she felt. He would rather die a hundred times than put his selfish needs ahead of hers.

But looking at her now, feeling somehow bare without his arms around her made the urge irresistible.

Somehow she was reading his mind before he even uttered a word.

Esme found herself sliding across the couch closer to him as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

He didn't fight with himself this time, instead he relished the moment. Enjoying the feeling of her being so near to him as he rested his cheek on top of her head, closing his eyes as he drowned in the sound of her soft breathing.

"The night will be long," He whispered into her hair as he stared out the window.

Even in the pitch darkness he could see the infinitesimal first few fallen snowflakes that had started to scatter outside.

"Mhmm." She replied softly.

The fire before them was slowly burning to a dim. It's dying flames giving one last fiery dance before they dissolved into the ashes.

"Carlisle?" She called out gently.

"Mmm?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

She felt him nod and continued, "How did...How did you find Edward?"

Somehow the question caught him off-guard.

There was a long silence before he answered.

She felt him shift slightly in his seat as he spoke, "It was 1918. Chicago Illinois. The deadly pandemic 'Spanish Influenza' found it's way onto American soil. The close quarters and massive troop movements of World War 1 hastened the pandemic and probably both increased its transmission and augmented mutation; the war may also have increased the lethality of the virus. Some speculate the soldier's immune systems were weakened by malnourishment, as well as the stresses of combat and chemical attacks, increasing their susceptibility to the virus..."

She felt him grow still for a second before he spoke again.

"Before anyone even knew, we had gone from merely treating a few patients a day to nearly a hundred. I worked restlessly during the hours of dawn and far long into the night. The patients were ranging from the juvenile to the elderly...some of them even children...even newborn children..." He whispered, tension in his voice.

Esme winced slightly as she held onto his voice.

"There was a man and his wife I had treated one evening. They had both contracted the virus. There was little I could do for them; their immune systems were completely ravaged. But still I did all that I could to save them." His voice was solemn, "Her husband was the first to lose his battle with the onset of the second wave. His wife knew that her time too would soon come."

"One early morning she had called me to her room. She was pale as paper, barely clinging to life, but her eyes held mine fervently as I sat next to her bedside."

"She was begging me, begging me to save her only son."

"Edward." Esme said and she felt him nod.

_You must do everything in your power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my  
son._

"Somehow she knew. Knew what I was and what I was capable of." His golden eyes rested on the glass window as his mind travelled back to the past, "Shortly after she had passed...I granted her last request..."

"Edward was at death's door himself when I found him. I took him from the hospital and brought him to my home. It was there I had changed him. . ."

"And Edward's ability? How did you know about it?" Esme asked looking up at him.

A small smile touched his lips, "He was answering questions that I had only asked in my innermost private thoughts."

Esme chuckled.

"But I love him as I would my own child." He whispered softly.

"I know you do..." She replied gently as she resumed her position on his shoulder.

There was a brief silent pause between them.

"Carlisle?" She called out once more.

"Yes, Esme?" He replied looking down at her with his golden irises.

"Thank you."

His head tilted slightly in confusion, "For what?"

"For telling me. I know it wasn't an easy memory to remember." She said softly.

He raised his hand and gently stroked her cheek in response as he whispered, "Thank you for listening."

The golden sun was beginning to glow in the distance, arising from it's dark slumber, bringing with it the frosted tears of winter.

Esme curled her arms around his torso as she rested her head on his chest, Carlisle draping his strong arms around her as he lightly toyed with her caramel locks.

Carlisle sighed sadly, as much as he would like to stay here, as much as he wanted to be completely lost in this moment, in _her_ embrace, he knew he would have to leave soon. His rounds were due in 30 mins.

"Esme?" He whispered softly.

"Mmm?" She replied with closed eyes, lost in her own little world.

"I have to leave; my rounds will be starting soon." He said, making a move to get up.

She pulled him back with a gentle force.

"Only for a little while longer, please." She said with a smile.

"Alright, then you'll let me go?" He asked with a gentle chuckle.

She nodded.

She whispered softly to him, her breath tickling the skin of his chest through the fabric that he wore, "I do wish you'd stay. For the day will be long and the night longer without you here."

"I won't be long," He whispered through her caramel tresses.

She looked up at him with such delicate warmth in her eyes that it taunted him with sweet temptation.

"Kiss me before you leave."

**A/N: Hey guys! Pleaseee FORGIVE ME for the delay XD Haha I had to do some errands this summer, so my deep apologies my beloved readers! Here's Chapter 22 I hope you enjoy! I LOVE you guys and THANK YOU so much for all your wonderful reviews! :') God bless! STAY AWSOME :)**

**Keep Readin' and Reviewin' ;D**

**And stay tuned for Chapter 23 ;)**


	23. To Know Him Is To Love Him

It had been a few days since that time in the library.

And since that time they had spent very little time apart.

With the little exception of Carlisle's rounds in the hospital to which he diligently fulfilled with calm and ease.

But by the time he was due to return home, he did his best not to run at inhuman speed past onlookers as he maintained a reasonably calm yet agile pace as he strode through his usual path that led to his shortcut home.

But as soon as he was alone, he ran as if his life depended on it.

More or less it did.

For there was this unbearable feeling in his chest when he was away from her and an incredible surge of euphoria when he knew that when he would come home she would be waiting for him. And that was the one thing he looked forward to the most when the day was over.

And all through those long hours in the hospital, she was all he thought about.

The way she laughed.

The way she looked at him.

How it felt when he held her in his arms.

She had bewitched him.

It was an early evening, on the first week of December.

The gentle rhythm of the snow was beginning to weave it's way onto the window of her room. Frosting the glass with it's icy breath as it shimmered with transparency from her bedroom light.

_He_ would be home soon.

And secretly she could not mask her impatience.

It did not make sense. Couldn't possibly make sense.

All she knew was she had to see him again.

It was as if there was a precious secret, an intimate notion between them that needed to be revealed. Acknowledged.

Pandora's box.

Black Beard's secret hiding place for his hedonistic treasures.

Whatever it was, it was in the air above them and around them.

They could not escape it.

They did not want to escape it even if they wanted to.

A celestial force pushing them together, urging them onwards with mutual encouragement.

She felt as if she was being pushed up to dizzying heights from the black hole she had once been buried in.

And she was disoriented; somehow she had become pieces of a broken puzzle that were slowly falling into place. It was confusing. But the clarity it gave her was enough to calm her soul.

Slowly she was regaining herself once more.

Finding herself again, in the arms of this man.

_Carlisle._

This wonderful stranger she knows so well yet is still hounded by the mystery in his secrets to which he hides so well behind golden eyes.

It was past 9.

She had spent half the day reading and the other half filling her newly acquired sketch book with her lovely hand-drawn works of art.

Esme found herself staring at two dresses delicately spread out on her bed as she debated which one to wear for the evening.

She decided that the floral pink would best suit her.

It was a lovely silk-satin frock that was designed in an empire cut with intricate flower embroidery that was flawlessly tailored to the dress.

She quickly slipped it on and felt the fabric glide smoothly against her skin.

Carlisle was being too modest about measurements.

The fit was just perfect.

She studied herself in the mirror and smiled at the lovely reflection that was staring back at her.

For the first time in a really long while.

She felt, _beautiful_.

It was not the kind of beauty she felt that was merely skin-deep, but It was something else.

An inner glow that made her feel alive again.

It was, _is_ happiness.

And she felt it each and every time she saw him.

It couldn't be denied.

She smiled softly to herself as she sat down and began combing her hair.

She ran her delicate fingers through her silky hair as she hummed quietly.

Her hands stopped for a moment as a light glistening in her finger caught her eye.

It was her wedding ring.

The wedding ring Charles had given her.

She stopped her brushing and stared at the little gold band that was wrapped around her finger.

Esme closed her eyes as memories of those terrible years flooded her mind.

_"Did you ever think you could leave me!?"_

_It was Charles's voice._

_He was dragging her by her hair across the darkened corridors. It was the middle of the night; it had been raining hard, the sound of thunder masking her pleas for help._

_She was screaming._

_She knew it was useless but she screamed anyway._

_Her scalp was burning from the intensity of his grip._

_He thrusted her to a corner and she crashed into the cold concrete wall, sliding down to the ground shivering with fear._

_"This is unacceptable. This, this act of indecency in my house! How dare you!"_

_His voice was ringing in her ears as his knuckles made contact with her ribs._

_The pain was so unbearable; she could only mutter a soft whimper of pain as she felt the wind being knocked out of her._

_He wouldn't stop._

_He kept going and going._

_He couldn't stop._

_He just couldn't._

_Even her cries and screams for mercy, he did not hear her._

_The blows she endured was turning her vision dark, all she could see was Charles's face._

_How his eyes looked when he would hit her._

_Not an ounce of kindness or remorse._

_He had slapped her face roughly, creating a split lip. She could taste her own blood as it trickled into her mouth._

_The last thing she remembered before darkness took over was crying out Carlisle's name._

Esme sat there in the dresser.

Her expression sombre.

She was clutching the brush in her hand so tightly that it broke into several pieces.

She felt helpless anger course through her veins.

Her lips quivered as a sob escaped her mouth.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Trying to push the violent memories back into their steel cages, lashing them back inside like wild animals. Trying desperately to forget.

She then stood up as she twisted the gold band around her finger, together with her engagement ring and slipped it off.

She then proceeded to her window and opened it.

The sky was black.

Not a single star was in sight.

She took one last glance at the rings in her palm and used all her strength as she threw them out. Not even bothering for a second glance as she slammed the window sill shut.

She sunk onto the floor. Her body wracked with dry sobs as she pressed her palms to her face.

Fighting the pain that came with the memories.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock on the door.

She took in a breath but her voice failed to conceal the emotions that she felt, "Who is it?"

The door handle twisted and Edward's head poked in. His beautiful face, strained with worry.

One look at Edward's face, Esme knew that he knew as well what had just happened.

There was no need of words.

The silence in the air was more than clear to either of them.

He slowly walked towards her and knelt by her side as he gently embraced her.

She returned his embrace as she rested her cheek on his shoulder.

Her silent sobs quietly receding.

"I'm so sorry..." Edward gently whispered.

Esme shook her head, "It doesn't matter now." She replied, a quivered smile touching her lips.

"It's over. That was the past. My past. But it's over now..." She said quietly.

Edward helped her to her feet, his eyes still worried.

"No one can hurt you now, Esme. Not with Carlisle and I to protect you." He said, embracing her once more.

She smiled at the sound of Carlisle's name. "Thank you Edward," She said gently touching his cheek.

"And, you are sort of indestructible now, so I don't think anyone could hurt you physically for that matter." Edward added, chuckling lightly.

Esme laughed as she shook her head. The warm feeling of happiness returning, "Edward, will you play for me?"

He smiled sweetly at her and said, "Of course."

It was past 12 midnight. Carlisle's shift at the hospital had just ended 30 minutes earlier.

He was walking in the dark. His sharp vision guiding him through the forest, the sound of the forest ground crunching beneath his long stride.

The snow was falling slowly from the sky, resembling like stardust as it glistened lightly in the murky moonlight.

The house was soon in sight as a soft smile touched his lips.

He stepped onto the porch steps as the wood creaked ever so slightly under his weight.

He proceeded towards the door and pushed it open as he walked past the threshold, closing the door behind him as he began shedding his outer coat.

The house was echoing with Edward's music. Carlisle walked over to the living room to check on his son.

Carlisle was surprised to find Esme not there with Edward.

"Where's Esme?" Carlisle asked, gently patting Edward's shoulder.

"I don't know." Edward replied, fighting back a smirk.

Carlisle gave him a look.

Edward chuckled, "Alright try the library, she was with me earlier but she went elsewhere. Not quite sure why."

"Alright, thank you son." He said softly.

Edward nodded and continued his playing.

He headed down the hall and proceeded towards the library. Even halfway there he could hear that it was empty.

He paused and tried to think of the places she could be, the sour feeling of distress was starting blur his mind. Just then he felt a pair of delicate arms embrace him from behind as a relieved smile etched itself onto his face.

"Try to guess who," The sweetly feminine voice murmured onto his back.

He chuckled softly as he covered her hands with his.

"And what shall my reward be if I get it right?" He asked, playing along.

"We shall see." She giggled.

"Hmmm," He said under his breath, "I can sense you are a lady,"

She bit back a laugh, "Very good, go on."

"A very beautiful lady," He said in his melodic voice, "With caramel locks fit for a Queen,"

Esme was giggling wildly from behind.

"Ah, yes. You have lovely eyes the colour of honey and lips that taste just as sweet."

He turned around to look her, gently stroking her face as he pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek.

Esme shook her head as she glanced up at him with mischievous eyes and kissed him softly on the mouth, teasing him with such a brief kiss.

He purred sadly in her ear as she smiled warmly up at him. Wrapping her arms around his neck as she stood on the very tip of her toes just to meet his towering height, embracing him tightly.

He did the same as he slid his strong arms around her waist and nuzzled his nose into her hair as he breathed in her scent.

He pressed a soft kiss to her jaw as he whispered in a voice filled with impassioned emotion, "I missed you today. . ."

She closed her eyes, drowning in his voice, "And I too. . ." She replied.

Carlisle held her tighter, determined not to let her slip away from his arms again, but Esme laughed softly as she slowly wiggled from his embrace and took him by the hand and led him through the opposite end of the hall. Guiding him towards the large veranda that overlooked the dark forest.

"Come look," She said with child-like optimism, "The snow has already started falling."

Esme turned to look at him with those smiling eyes of hers, "Isn't it beautiful?"

He looked at her lovely face as his lips parted, his voice dropping an octave lower, "It's _very_ beautiful."

She shook her head as sweet mirth escaped her lips.

If Carlisle noticed her newly bare ring-finger, he made no comment.

The snow was still falling as they stepped out. Lightly dusting the oak floorboards with frosty droplets. Making the ground glisten like melted diamonds.

The air was cool and dry, but they felt no chill as they walked towards the wooden railing.

Esme watched with delighted eyes as the snowflakes soporifically fall from the sky, a wayward flake being blown in her direction by icy breaths of winter.

She smiled softly as she stretched out her palm, allowing the infinitesimal flake to land on her hand before being swept away again by the December wind.

She was suddenly filled with nostalgia as early memories of her childhood that were spent during Christmas came rushing back at her with sweet resonance.

She winced slightly at the thought of her parents. It's already been years since she last saw them.

Especially her mother.

She could not lie to herself and say she did not miss her own mother.

She did, more so than she dared to admit.

But Esme knew she could never see them again.

They were now simply a memory of the past.

_Her_ past.

She shook herself out of her own thoughts before they turned dark again.

The pain in her heart when she would begin to relive her memories was already enough of a reminder.

Carlisle somehow sensed what she had felt. For she found him slipping his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her close to him as she leaned her head back against his chest. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple as he slowly intertwined his fingers with hers.

His brows furrowed infinitesimally. Silently worried for her.

Somehow either of them just knew what the other was feeling when the silence was long, and their breaths grew quiet.

Connected by some sort of cosmic fate.

"Where were you?" He murmured into her ear.

"I'm just here," She replied sweetly, veering her head lightly to look at him.

She chuckled at the sight of the snowflakes that had gathered at the crown of his head.

"I think we should return inside," She said as she gently dusted the frozen flakes off his head.

"Indeed." He said shaking his head in amusement.

They returned inside a few moments later, the wind blowing a few remnants of snowflakes throughout the corridor.

They were walking side by side in the dim-lighted hallway. Their hands surreptitiously brushing against the other at their gait.

"Will you be working tonight?" Esme asked, pausing briefly.

"I'm afraid so," Carlisle replied quietly, "I have a few papers to go through tonight."

"Oh," She said softly, concealing her mild disappointment.

"But I'd love for you to keep me company while I work." He said, shooting a side-ways glance at her as he smiled.

She smiled warmly, "I'd love to."

Carlisle's study room had the same dark paneling as his bedroom and was a lot like the library he had downstairs.

The only difference it had was the reading material, which consisted mostly of thick and heavy-looking medical textbooks that were either half-open or piled neatly against his desk.

Carlisle was sifting through his paperwork while Esme made herself comfortable with her sketchpad. She was seated in one of the easy chairs near his desk, creating another drawing that would be added to her ever growing collection of artworks.

A few minutes of undisturbed silence passed them, each engrossed in their work yet either of them thankful for the other's presence.

Carlisle glanced at her once a moment to see how she was doing. He hid back a smile as he watched her brows furrow in intense concentration at the work she was doing.

For the first time in a long while.

He felt, less _alone._

And it was wonderful.

Later into the early hours of dawn, after everything there had to be done was finished, after the mundane little things of daily life were put to rest. They had resorted into re-arranging the easy chairs till it faced the window.

So that they could watch the sun rise, together.

She was in his arms once more as he cradled her close to him. She didn't deem it likely to sit in separate chairs so instead she sat on his lap and made herself comfortable as she laid her head on his chest.

They started talking, but always in the softest of whispers. For some odd reason they could never understand, when daylight was approaching they always resorted to soft whispers, some primal fear of disturbing the peace and tranquillity the sun brought when it would arise from it's secret chambers.

Esme started to talk about her early childhood as Carlisle listened obediently.

He was quite silent for the most part of the early morning, which did not go unnoticed by Esme.

It would not be long till she would learn the reason that plagued his sombre silence.

Esme looked at him with those searching eyes, urging him to tell her what ghost from his past was haunting him.

And in the end, he decided to share a dark memory to which he still remembers clearly to this day.

He began telling her his memories of the war.

His voice sounded foreign and distant, his mind wandering through some dark corridors of the past as he spoke.

He never told anyone about what he saw or the difficult circumstances he endured, those memories were for his eyes only and now he found himself telling her about. _Everything_.

And somehow her silent understanding calmed him in a loving embrace, giving him comfort to soothe the wounds that did not show.

"The stench of death was in the air," His eyes lowered as his lips quivered for a moment only, "Hundreds of broken bodies piled against each other. It seemed what I was doing was never enough to ease their pain. The devastation it caused in France as well in England was unfathomable."

"There were men and some even boys no older than 18. I was surrounded by death and the wounded still gasping for life." His voice trailed off.

"My secret was quite a challenge to hide from silently observing eyes, so I had made it a point where I worked the evening shifts alone. I could not risk having being exposed out in the open during such a calamity." She could feel him tense slightly.

"The ones who passed on made me feel ashamed," His head bowed slightly as the gentle rays of the sun found it's way onto the glass window. His face hidden from the light, "Ashamed of myself knowing that I could never know their peace."

Esme squeezed his hand lightly, comforting him with her gentle touch.

He smiled sadly at her.

"For a while I prayed that I might find solitude in this strange life I have been given, but I knew I was here for a purpose. I knew I wanted to be a doctor the very first night I saved a patient's life. The humbling blessing God has given me knowing that even though this thing I have it was not just a curse, it is also a gift." He said, gently tracing the outlines of her delicate fingers, his eyes thoughtful.

"Knowing I could help people. Ease their pain, knowing that I could never ease mine. . ."

"It's something I would have done time and again rather than to live a life without meaning, without direction. . ."

She listened to him intently, his voice clear with untainted honesty.

The sun had fully ascended to the sky as it's light softly penetrated through the thick white clouds, gently lighting the room with it's hazy glow.

Carlisle turned to look at her.

His eyes open, filled with the golden depths of time.

She knew she was in love with him.

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the semi-delay haha! My pc was acting up this week so my apologies my beloved readers! Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, I LOVE YOU ALL! :)**

**You are the best readers a writer could ever have and hope for! :)**

**So here's Chapter 23 I hope you enjoy! And stay tuned for Chapter 24 ;) God Bless! And to a question a reader asked, yes I'm a Catholic haha :) We celebrate Easter here in the summer :)**


	24. Freefalling

They were walking through the snow-covered forest.

The ominous trees looming above them in hushed stares, their once leaf-covered bodies now esconed in blankets of snow.

The air was cold and thick, wrapping their delicate silhouettes in a diaphanous fog as they walked.

It was one of those beautifully idyllic nights. The golden day melting into the blissful embrace of night as the two collide across the sky, painting it with their undying promise of tomorrow.

There were no stars. Only the luminescent moon, it's pale eyes watching the two strangers from the midnight sky.

_Strangers._

Even the word itself sounds cold. Indiffirent.

They were not strangers.

Far from it actually.

But only time will tell, what they will, or will not be.

She was wearing a delicate blue frock that evening. Her hair billowing gently in the cool breeze as she walked.

He was following behind her, a hidden smile on his lips.

He was completely distracted with the way her beautiful fingers caressed each of the tree bark she passed. Their coarse and callous skin almost looking like fine silk beneath her tender touches.

He longed to kiss them.

But he did not tell her this as he made his way next to her.

"How far is it?" She asked softly with a gentle smile, the little dimple in her cheeks showing as she brushed a hair from her face.

"Not too far, were almost there." He replied as he unconsciously tugged at his tie.

"Wait, it's crooked," She said as she turned to face him completely, the skin on her fingers brushing against his as she straightened the tie for him.

She began loosening and tightening the other end of the knot till it looked just right, her restless fingers gently dusting off the little snowflakes off his coat along the way.

"There we go, that looks much better." She said smiling at him.

Even in the darkness she could see the way he was looking at her. The way his dark pupils poured into hers like black diamonds.

"Is something wrong?" She asked, her voice perplexed.

There was something intensely endearing with the way he was looking at her.

His gaze averted as his lips pursed lightly, "It's nothing," His voice came out in a whispered timbre, "Thank you."

They continued their walking till they reached some sort of peak.

It was slightly triangular, surrounded by neighbouring rocky-ledges and giant trees halfway near the edges.

Carlisle walked ahead of her, nearing the edge of a very high cliff.

"Carlisle!" Esme screeched, her hand pressed to her chest.

He walked back to where she was, putting his hands on her shoulder in an assuring gesture.

"It's alright," He said in that voice to which she could not resist, "I'm going to show you something."

"Please," She begged "I don't want to be near that, that. . ." Her voice trailed off; instinctively she could almost guess how high up they were.

His hands slid down till they touched her fingers, "Trust me," He said, his right hand gently touching her cheek.

Esme looked at him with uncertain eyes as she nodded.

He leaned close to her, his lips barely a few inches from her ear, "Close your eyes," He whispered.

Esme took a deep breath as she slowly closed her eyes shut.

She felt his large yet wonderfully sculpted hands mingle with her own, guiding her footfalls as they walked.

Esme gently squeezed his palm and said, "Not too near, please. . ." She whispered.

"Alright," He replied softly.

A few meters further, she felt him stop.

"Can I open my eyes now?" She said, feeling the intense curiosity burning her insides with uncontainable excitement.

She heard his melodic laugh, "Not yet,"

She pouted slightly, but conceded. "Fine. . ."

"I'm going to take off my coat, wait for a moment." Carlisle announced.

She squeezed his hand slightly, "No, don't leave me here half blind." She moaned.

Carlisle chuckled, "I shan't be a moment, you can count to 5 and I'll be back before you know it."

"A-Alright, 5 means 5 okay?" She said feeling unsure.

"Yes, 5 means 5."

She felt his hands slip from hers and she began mentally counting in her head. Her eyes still closed.

_1, 2, 3, 4, 5,_

True to his word without even a second to spare she felt his hands glide back into hers. She let out a sigh of relief as leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his torso and rested her head against his chest.

"So what are we doing here?" She murmured softly.

"You'll see in a few moments." He said in a mysterious tone.

"Tell me." She demanded, the excitement was taking on a life of it's own.

"Patience _is_ a virtue, so you shall have to wait a moment longer." He said with a silent chuckle.

"Mmmmm," She mumbled into his chest, feeling impatient.

"Just a few minutes more." He promised.

In the distance she could sense something, light perhaps but she was not sure.

"Now," He whispered.

And her eyes fluttered open.

The sun was making it's way through the miraculously cloudless sky, and they were just beneath it's heaven-lighted trail. Soaring gracefully with golden wings to partake it's place amidst the sapphire sky.

She stared in awe at the beautiful sight before her, the smell of the ocean passing her nose.

In the distance she could see the restless ocean, lined with rocky ledges that surrounded the small town.

It was breathtaking. She could see everything, everything her golden eyes could see and it felt wonderful. The peaceful scene before her warmed her heart greatly as she looked at the handsome man beside her. The once familiar fear she had felt before was completely obliterated.

Esme had unconciously let go of him when she noticed something was missing.

She looked to her side to find Carlisle gone.

"Carlisle?" She called out, tension in her voice.

"I'm just here." Carlisle spoke.

He was standing underneath a large tree that shielded him against the sun.

"Come look," She said smiling at him, her eyes filled with innocent enthusiasm.

He stepped out from the dark and into the light.

And time stopped.

Her breath, frozen in her throat.

The sun drowned him with golden rays as he stood there, looking every bit like Apollo himself in all his beauty and splendour that would make Narcissus himself enraged with fatal jealousy.

He was shining in the sun. His skin shimmering like diamonds with crystalline colours that danced with visceral life in the light.

She was lost for words.

She could not speak, her eyes continued to stare in sheer wonder as he walked towards her. Wearing that familiar gentle smile that made her legs feel like lead.

"I...you're..." She was trying to conjure words that would make sense but failed miserably as she shook her head in bemused awe.

He chuckled lightly, "Look at your arms." He said.

And she did.

Like him, she was shimmering away underneath the sun's gleeful rays, her skin like crystal as it shined with incandescent colours that were dancing with kaleidoscopic movements beneath her gaze.

They both stood there like two shimmering stars in daylight. Immaculately beautiful.

She smiled looking up at him as the restless light reflected in her eyes, making them burn with a warm flame that ignited from her heart.

Her lips parted, ready to reveal to him whatever secrets that laid in her lips when. . .

She could smell something. Something in the air.

It was 5 am.

The once cloudless sky was now heavily covered by white cotton as the golden day turned into a dreary shade of grey, the snow starting to fall once more.

The place they were in was not far from a local hunting reserve that lay a few kilometres south.

Something was wrong, very wrong.

She was watching the sun's light being covered to a dim by greedy clouds.

"Esme?" Carlisle said, "Esme, what is it?"

In the distance she could hear a man with a loaded rifle. The was snow crunching beneath his boots as he returned into the forest carrying something with him. He had just made a kill, a young deer. He was cutting some sort of rope when his fingers slipped, causing the blade to slide onto his skin, cutting it.

She closed her eyes as she took in a breath.

She smelled.

_Blood._

Within seconds she was gone from Carlisle's side.

He caught the scent of the blood and his brows furrowed.

_This can't be._

He knew he couldn't do this alone, he needed help.

She was running, running blindly through the woodlands. The scent guiding her through the dark sea of trees.

She had lost all control.

Her body no longer hers.

The scent grew stronger with each step she took.

Her feral strides riding with the wind as she ran, her thirst growing with an unquenchable hunger in her throat that yearned for blood. Human blood.

Some magnetic pulse pushing her faster and further into the woods, her breath quickening as she licked her lips.

It did not take long for her to find him.

He was kneeling in the snow, oblivious to the inevitable danger that awaited him.

He was feebly clutching to his wound as he vainly tried to wrap it with a cloth when. . .

She crashed onto him with a blunt and heavy force, knocking him out as she straddled on top of him.

He was helpless and she knew it.

She had no control.

She was a prisoner of her own body.

His heart was beating and it was driving her into a mad frenzy, she could hear it. _Feel it_ as it pulsated in a daunting rhythm that drew her in like quicksand.

The blood from his wound, dying the snow a bright crimson red.

She was about to bite him when a voice called out to her from across the wide plains.

"Esme!" Carlisle screamed as he ran towards her, an icy breath escaping from his lips as he neared the latter.

But she did not move, not by an inch. She was blinded by thirst.

She kept the defenceless stranger pinned to the ground with a forceful hand.

Carlisle approached her carefully, "Esme, please, don't do this."

Her eyes were unsteady. Crazed with thirst.

"Do not forget who you are," He said, his eyes calling out to her with a silent plea.

"If you choose to do this, you can never go back. You will not forgive yourself if you do this, please. . .Let him go. . ."

Esme stared at him blankly. Her mouth parted, her fangs glimmering with a foreboding sheen.

She was about to bite the stranger beneath her for a second time, her teeth barely missing his skin when Carlisle called out to her once more. His voice strong, determined.

"Esme, Esme do you remember the night of your graduation?" Esme stopped, her head bowing slightly as if in thought.

"That night you found that gold necklace waiting for you by the window and you never knew who it was from?"

Her back straightened as her head veered to look at him, her eyes meeting his.

The familiar look in her gaze returned as her hands found their way to the golden pendant that hung loosely around her throat.

It was as if a switch had turned on.

Her senses returned as she watched with horrified eyes at the scene in front of her.

The man was unconscious and she was about to. . .

_No, no, no_

"What am I doing?" Esme asked in a terrified voice as she stood up, backing away from the hapless stranger.

"Esme, It's alright, you didn't bite him. He's alive," Carlisle said in a calming voice, trying to motion her over to him.

"No," Esme said shaking her head, her voice quivering with self-loathe.

"Come here, Esme, it's going to be alright." Carlisle said in a gentle voice, trying to placate her as he wrapped the man's wound with a handkerchief, turning it into a temporary tourniquet.

"What have I become?" She asked helplessly.

"Esme-" Carlisle called out as he carried the man in his arms with incredible ease.

He turned to look at where she was but, she was gone.

"Esme!" Carlisle called out, the sinking feeling of fear and loss eating away at his gut.

He looked back at the young man in his arms, he was about to wake up.

He quickly walked to where the stranger's old truck was parked and placed him on the driver's seat.

"Carlisle." A deep voice said from behind him.

"Edward," Carlisle said, as he moved the man gently to the passenger seat.

"I need you to do something for me," Carlisle began, before he could even finish his question Edward spoke.

"I can't, I can't do that Carlisle, I haven't even hunted yet, and the smell will drive me insane." Carlisle looked into Edward's black eyes, "You have to try son, remember to hold your breath. You can do it, I trust you. Just drive him to the hospital I'll be there as soon as I can." Carlisle said as he checked on the man's wound one last time to make sure it was well covered.

"And Esme?" Edward asked,

He tensed visibly for a moment as deep worry furrowed between his brows, "I'm going to find her."

He watched as Edward drove off into the distance, before turning on his heel and headed straight into the darkened woodlands.

She was running again.

Running away this time from, _everything._

She was filled with this self-hate that tormented her with such pain.

She had almost took that man's life.

_I almost killed him._

_Me. Esme._

Dry sobs escaped her lips as she ran.

She had no direction, she was lost. Alone.

And that perhaps was the worst of it all.

She had been running for over a few minutes, she was going deeper into the forest with no destination.

She slowed her pace as she came to a full stop.

In the distance she could hear fast footfalls, but before she could recognize who it belonged to, a voice called out to her from the frosty distance beyond.

"Carlisle," She said as she saw him slowly walk towards her, his eyes pained with distress.

"Don't come near me." She warned, his steady gaze remained unwavered as he stopped in front of her.

She shook her head as the emotions within her welled up once more like a violent tidal wave, "What am I?" She said, her voice quivering, "If I am no longer human, then what am I?"

"Esme," Carlisle whispered as he made a move to come closer.

"No!" She screamed, "If blood no longer flows through these veins then what am I?!"

"A beast? A monster?" She said in an angry whisper, "I almost killed a man today. _I_ almost killed a man today."

She looked at his handsome face, her eyes tracing every beautiful line with her vision. Longing to touch him, to hold him. But her emotions were her insurmountable barrier that kept her hidden from him.

"I _cannot_ go on like this. . ." She whimpered as she sunk onto the ground, the soft snow caving lightly under her weight.

"Why don't you answer me?" She asked with helpless sobs.

"Help me. . . .Help me to understand. . ." She whispered.

Carlisle watched with a heavy heart as he slowly approached her.

He knelt by her side as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

He started to speak, his voice soft and kind. But the words he spoke carried grim memories of the past that still haunts him with nostalgic fear that could not be erased.

"The year was 1640. My father was an Angelican Pastor. He led these yearly raids that focused on the destruction of vampires and werewolves." He began as he moved closer to her, rubbing her back soothingly as he spoke. Her head remained low, her face hidden beneath her caramel hair, "As time wore on my father became old and weak. And the responsibility of leading the raids rested on my shoulders. I had to do what my father could not." His eyes were unfocused as the memory of those years resonated into his thoughts with familiar clarity. His hand resting chastely on her shoulder. "The first two raids were successful. It was not easy for me, especially with the ordeals I had to go through in order to pursue such a precariously dangerous task. Until my third raid came." He paused for a moment as he looked out into the forest. The still silence hanging over them like a dreary cloth.

"It was an evening like all others. The stars shining meekly at a far off distance. We were walking in the dark, heading to the lower parts of the London sewers with our lighted torches barely leading the way. I had somehow gotten astray from my group when I found this man in ragged clothing leaning against the wall in one of the sewers." His voice tensed as he recounted the events that would forever change his life.

"He seemed to be shaking, his entire face and body was covered by some sort of putrid filthy cloth. _"Are you alright?" _I asked," Carlisle's eyes winced as he continued. "I came close to the man when he launched himself on to me like a wild animal, it all happened so fast when he...When he bit me..." His eyes narrowed solemnly on the floor. His lips tight with tension.

"I never saw his face."

Esme looked up. Staring at him with glossy eyes, Carlisle looking back at her, knowing that she too shared his pain.

"There were moments when I craved for death, but it fled from me. I was walking a long and deathless road that seemed to be spinning in circles." He whispered. "But perhaps the most pain I have ever endured were those long infinite nights of _loneliness_. When the days had no end, and the nights seemed endless. When the cave I had lived in seemed more alive than I, more _human_. . ."

"When all you know was the night and nothing else." He whispered, "We cannot change our fate. But we can choose to _live_ through it, in the best way we can."

He gently raised his hand and softly cupped her cheek. His eyes filled with tender emotion, holding her heart in such a delicate hold that it melted all the anger, all the hate inside of her in a single gesture.

He softly lifted her chin so that her eyes met his.

"Do not walk in this darkness alone."**  
**

He had found her once more.

And he was now saving her again by an unspoken emotion that stood the many tests of time.

_Love._

****

A/N: Whew! I actually typed this out on one sitting! which took a while haha! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, this is sort of my version of how Esme dealt with her bloodlust, I didn't want her to actually kill someone cause' for me that's like going a little too far XD so I hope you guys liked how this turned out :), I LOVE YOU ALL and THANK YOUUUU for all your lovely reviews! I LOVE hearing from you guys because YOU are all **AWESOME :)**

**God Bless! And stay tuned for Chapter 25 ;)**

**And another Big shoutout to my Beta Reader Jucy Sam! Thank you so much for helping me out with your awesome editing skills XD**


	25. Sweetest Downfall

It had been approximately 3 weeks since the near-fatal incident that almost occurred.

The once cheerful little town of Ashland was now a poignant picture of frozen-melancholia.  
The quaint houses now lay still beneath icy seas and cold blankets of white.

There was an unfortunate blizzard that week that seemed to have almost crawled itself out into infinutum.

But that did not dampen Esme's optimism. Despite all that has happened; she wanted to spend the holidays in high spirits.

It was the middle of December, near Christmas.

Esme had spent half the early morning adding her own little Christmas decors around the house, placing a few hollies' here and there and a charming little wreath that hung out invitingly by the front door. She realized the wreath was just a tad bit bare by itself and decided to put a medium sized red ribbon at the top, just to add a bit of life.

Edward was kind enough to have helped her with the tree and decorating it. Though he was rather endearingly lost with which colours to use that would not clash with the silver theme Esme had chosen to go with.

They worked their way till the late afternoon.

It was definitely what she needed. Something to take her mind off the heavy reminder of what had _almost_ happened.

But despite the cheerful atmosphere, despite the guileless smiles and gentle laughter, Edward could still sense deep inside how the incident has affected her deeply.

They were in the living room.

Edward had started the fireplace, allowing a cheerful fire to burn in the dry hearth while Esme finished hanging delicate silver bells around the tree.

She seemed happy today, distant but happy.

He watched her with thoughtful eyes from a distance, watching her move swiftly around the room, arranging one object accordingly after the other in one sweeping motion.

Lately he had noticed that there was this strange look that she carried in her eyes, and he was not sure what it meant.

Good or bad it seemed ambiguous.

Shortly after the day's hustle and bustle, and after all the 'That goes over there' routine, Esme excused herself unexpectedly to her room.

Edward felt a pang of concern. He watched her exit the room and on an impulse followed her.

Halfway near the foyer he stopped. He thought it best that maybe she just needed time alone to gather her thoughts but before he could stop himself he called out to her,

"Esme?" He said, his deep voice echoing up the stairs.

She stopped her gait mid-way and turned.

"Yes Edward?" She replied with a delicate smile. A stray lock of hair covering the corner of her eyes.

"Will you be alright by yourself?" he asked, his eyes worried.

She gave him that knowing smile of hers and said, "Of course, I'm fine. Really Edward." She said reassuringly.

Edward nodded, his eyes looking rather sheepish after a moment, "I'll just be in the living room if there's anything you need."

"Thank you Edward." She said softly.

She watched him re-enter the living room and slowly turned her heel and continued up the stairs.

She turned a sharp corner, her soft footsteps echoing through the long hallway till she found her way to the bedroom.

She entered inside and closed the door behind her.

She needed a moment alone. A moment to think.

The air suddenly felt too cold and too enclosed.

She collapsed onto the lavender coloured eiderdown and faced the window. The grey sky illuminating itself into the room, bringing a cool breeze as its breath travelled inside, trickling against her porcelain skin.

Christmas was drawing nearer.

And she could not help the restless emotions that were roaming inside of her. The memories that still haunted her with such tenacity that it was almost impossible to hear her own thoughts any longer.

She had been a vampire for over a little while now, yet even though she accepted her dark fate her mind is still recalling the things to which she used to be when her heart was still beating.

And it was a maddening sort of torture. Silent yet inescapable.

They are _her_ memories, and they will always be a part of her, no matter how the years go by.

They will always be there in her mind, fresh and clear as dew, sifting through her consciousness like old photos. And all the sounds, sights and smells will be there, intact.

She did not want to remember; in fact all she wanted to do was to forget. To simply not yearn for anything or to not _miss_ anything.

But she did, very much so in fact.

She missed the sun, the carefree days, and the food she used to cook and eat. The way things tasted when she was younger.

The way _life_ tasted before it erupted and changed the course of her destiny for all time.

She thought of Charles.

Despite her long traumatic history with him, it never stopped her from seeking happiness. The horrible memories she had of her years with him was not going to be her prison. She would never allow herself to be trapped in them any longer.

She wanted freedom. True freedom.

And part of it was to let go of the past _and_ it's misery.

Her thoughts turned to Carlisle.

The one man she knew that stirred emotions in her the way a storm stirs the seas with its raging winds.

Yet he was the only one who could bring her peace. Appease the feral being that lay deep within her, comforting her like a gentle meadow and sweet winds of spring.

She knew that all she wanted and would ever want resided in this man, in _him_.

This wonderful creature she was learning to fall in love with over and again in an endless cycle of deep, tender, rapture that had no end.

And she prayed that it would never end.

A magnificent accident of the soul to feel this way.

If only she knew the secret of his heart.

It was getting late.

Carlisle had been working on his rounds for more than 8 hours straight.

He was walking in the darkened hallways, the soft taps of his heel gliding across the smooth floors as he walked. He had one more visit to make before leaving for the night.

For some, they consider the Hospital a grim place to be especially if you are not in the best physical or mental condition for that matter. Perhaps in more ways than one, not exactly the ideal place to be in to begin with.

The people who come in, come in all different shapes and sizes. All different races, creeds and religions but all share the same pain, the same fear, and the same hopes.

No.

The Hospital is not a grim place to be, it is merely a port of entry or exit.

When a person dies another is born to take it's place on earth.

The beautiful yet tragic cycle of life.

Carlisle was walking up a long stairwell. During long nights like this, the upper parts of the darkened hospital lay empty and bare, except for a few nurses who surveyed the area that were checking up on their patients.

He made a small left and headed to the familiar corridor that lead to his destination.

Room 20 B.

He took a small pause and grasped the silver doorknob.

There was an old man lying in a small but clean bed, a worn and weary smile on his face as he saw the young Doctor enter.

His platinum hair was slightly dishevelled as he closed the book that was in his hands.

The two men greeted each other jovially as Carlisle made his way to the old man's bedside.

His name was Jonathan Collins.

He was a little under the average height, but made up for it with his cheerfully casual sense of humour. He was 75 years old, widowed but no children.

He had green eyes that sparkled with wit and merriment and had a nose that drooped slightly at the bottom and a crooked smiled that was accompanied by a hearty-laugh.

His face however still retained traces of a boyish charm. But the wrinkles and lines of the years were clearly written on his face, making him look like he belonged in a 17th century portrait that should be hung in history museums.

His prognosis was sadly terminal. He had Leukaemia.

The first night Jonathan was admitted, Carlisle was the Doctor on duty. It did not take long before the two became good friends.

"How are you feeling tonight John?" Carlisle asked gently as he took the man's pulse with skilled fingers.

"Not too bad. The pain just keeps coming and going I suppose." Jonathan replied his voice hoarse, scratching the crown of his head lightly with his free hand.

Carlisle glanced at him and gave him a kind smile, "You're doing just fine, hang in there."

Jonathan smiled back, his pale green eyes shining with gratitude. "Thanks a lot Doc, you know for coming in and keeping me company." He said as he cleared his throat.

Carlisle waved a hand, "It's my pleasure."

He watched as the young Doctor sat back down. His old and wrinkled face was lightly contorted as if in deep thought.

"Hey, Doc, can I ask you something?" Jonathan asked.

"Of course," Carlisle replied.

"Are you married?"

The question caught him off-guard.

Carlisle smiled, as he shook his head. Not even once losing his composure, "No,"

"By golly, you know If I had your face and height, I'd probably be married several times by now." He mused as he let out a hefty laugh.

Carlisle chuckled, "But you were married before weren't you?"

Jonathan smiled, "Yeah I was." His smiled faded a bit, "She was a good woman, had a heart filled with love. She died of a heart-attack back in 1920." He said quietly.

"I'm sorry." Carlisle said softly.

"Don't be, the good Lord has something planned for all of us. I'm just waiting for the time when I'll see her again." He said as his eyes narrowed onto his wrinkled fingers.

Jonathan gave out a small chuckle, "You know it's funny, when you're young you want to be old and when you're finally old you want to be young again." He shook his head, "We sure have a hard time making up our minds don't we Doc?"

Carlisle nodded as he laughed.

"So since you aren't married, you must have a lady-friend then?" Jonathan asked once more.

He noticed immediately the demure twinkle in Carlisle's eyes.

Carlisle noticed the look in his face and conceded, "I do," he said, almost sounding rather sheepish.

"That's my boy!" Jonathan exclaimed, "So does she know how you feel?"

Carlisle's eyes became suddenly pensive, "No, she doesn't."

"Well what do you mean she doesn't, you should tell her." Jonathan replied.

"I don't think it's all that simple John." Carlisle replied quietly.

Jonathan shook his head and threw his hands in the air, "You know," He said as he turned to look at Carlisle, "A large part of our lives are spent in hiding. We are living on this planet and we do exist, but we spent a valuable time of our lives hiding or running away from things that scare us, half of them are people we love." He paused as his craggy brows furrowed, "It's good to be scared sometimes. But you know hiding is what eventually makes us lose the ones we treasure the most. They'll never know how you feel about them unless you tell em' am I right?"

Carlisle looked at him and nodded infinitesimally.

"You know, the first time I met my wife. I was studying my degree for History in college, I was walking down the campus steps, I had just come out from the library. It was the hottest summer I could remember. I guess I was pretty much in a hurry, I didn't even see her face when she walked past me, just traces of her golden-brown hair flowing behind as she walked. She was with a friend or something like that and when I finally did take a second look I saw her smile, I didn't know whether she was smiling at me or smiling at someone she knew. It was probably one of the happiest days in my life. Just seeing that smile for the first time, I knew then I wanted her to be my wife. Back then I couldn't talk to her because I was too darn shy."

"You know Doc, life is really easy especially if you see them through the eyes of a child. But geez' once you become an adult everything is different, we complicate things that aren't complicated at all. Tied up in knots and we even wonder how the heck we ended up in knots in the first place?"

He gave a quiet chuckle and turned to Carlisle, "My point is, don't complicate a situation that's really easy, if you feel that the moment has arrived, seize it with both hands and don't let go, you know what I mean?"

Carlisle smiled and nodded, "I know what you mean. So how did you end up marrying her?" He asked patiently.

"Well. Long story short, she studied in the same school as I, just different subjects. And I noticed she kept on going to that same library I did, so I took my chance one day and gathered the courage talk to her. I found out that she loved history but her parents made her study Political Science. We sat on a wooden bench underneath an old tree and just talking. We ended up talking for several hours, and it was probably one of the best days of my life. That was where we found our meeting place by the way, she'd go there during the afternoon and would wait for me and it sort of started from there. I would write her letters and hide them behind the tree and she'd leave replies and slip it in between the cracks of the tree branches. It was also that same tree where I told her how I felt."

"It was raining that afternoon. I told her the day before in a note that I needed to tell her something important, I didn't even expect her to come cause' of the storm. But when I came, she was there waiting for me. She was still beautiful even though she was soaking wet. We both knew the question, now all there was left was the answer. So I told her I loved her. Flat out straight. At that time I didn't care whether she felt the same way, I didn't even ask her if she wanted to be my girl, I just needed her to know. I was ready to accept what her answer would be."

A small smirk found it's way onto his wrinkled lips, "Fate has a funny way with love because fortunately she felt the same way. . ."

Carlisle smiled and patted the man gently on his shoulder. Jonathan looked at him and said, "I'm not big on the whole romantic thing, in fact I'm just a big old grump. But I guess I just got lucky. But in any case, you really should tell her."

Carlisle looked at Jonathan, his handsomely impassive features unwavered. His voice rather uncertain, "I'll try."

He was walking home later that evening. The old man's words still in his ears.

_You should really tell her._

And for the first time in his long life, he was at a loss as to what he should do.

He was walking towards the house, the soft snow crunching and munching under his long strides.

Carlisle was thinking about her, about _Esme._

She was the epitome of innocence in it's purest form.

A white rose in all it's tender beauty, untainted by malice and the world's cruelties.

Like the golden sands of the Sahara desert, he felt warmth whenever he was near to her. Indeed she made him feel the warmth of a thousand suns with her lips like cherry wine, the kind of warmth he thought was forever frozen inside of him for all eternity.

But perhaps the one thing he that touched his heart the most, was when she fixed his tie.

It was a simple gesture.

A random act of kindness. But in that kindness, he saw her heart truly and clearly.

Oh yes it was filled with anger at the past, confusion and doubt at the present and fear of the future but there nested at the very core of this woman, _Esme._

Was _love_.

Carlisle knew now what he wanted. For the first time in a long while, the road ahead was clear.

He entered the house a few minutes later. Shedding his outer coat along the way. The house was pleasantly toasty due to the several fireplaces that were lit, the vague scent of pinecones in the air.

His first instinct was to find Esme until he passed the living room, Edward's voice stopping him in his tracks. His voice was barely audible to human ears, but his words were clear.

"So you _do_ love her." He said, a lovely wide-spread grin touching his lips.

Carlisle stared back with a long gaze, his head nodded lightly.

Edward spoke once more, "She's in the library."

He found himself walking rather methodically towards the familiar corridors that would lead him to the library door. His throat felt tense.

He raised a hand to the door handle and turned it.

Outwardly he looked calm.

On the inside he felt like he was going to completely lose his marbles.

But like the infuriatingly calm English gentleman that he is, it wouldn't even show.

This was going to be a long night.

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's Chapter 25! I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Thank you soooooo much for all your wonderful reviews! I am just up and beyond happy reading each and every one of them so THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart! I LOVE you all! And thank you for being my AWESOME readers ;)**

**Keep reading! :))**

**God Bless and stay tuned for chapter 26 weow! :)**


	26. Tell Me Your Dreams

He enters the room and closes the door silently.

He moves across the room having the grace of a King with the face of a Prince.

Yet his shy eyes tell the story of his soul.

He finds Esme lying on her stomach; her delicate frame lying on the soft carpet that was facing the warm fire. She was wearing a deep plum frock that was haphazardly sprawled on the floor. The dark colour complemented her pale skin endearingly as her hair hung freely; it's soft waves framing her face.

The room was quite dark, and the only light was illuminated from the hot hearth that glowed with a yellow flame.

Carlisle took a pause as he stood from afar. His eyes watching her fondly, his lips silent. His soul somehow desperate to be released from it's earthly prison.

The snow was beginning to fall again, as it falls lazily one by one from the starless black sky. Trickling its way to the earth before dying on the ground, melting with the season before being reborn again as it repeats it's footfalls back into the heavens.

This was it.

Love or an eternity filled with a deathless hollow echo.

He did not move for a long moment, but simply stood there in the dark, watching her. Secretly wondering. Secretly hoping she too would _save_ him.

Save him from the black embrace of loneliness.

Save him from the centuries of hurt and pain he endured alone.

Save him from the dark that was waiting to consume him.

If he closed his eyes, he could still see clearly that cold cave he had once lived in. The moss that grew on the walls to the dusty smell of the earth on the floor. The sharp stones to the bats that shared his little hut; the life he knew then. The fear he had felt and wondering if it would ever end. There was no one he could tell. No soul to share his burden. The storms he endured for months on end.

He was lost in some perilous existential misery. His thoughts slowly turning against him as he stands there, barely breathing.

He stood there in the shadows; he was the image of perfection. His equilibrium completely unwavered. But secretly he felt as if he were hanging by some thin silver thread and below him laid the infinite ocean of despair and the unending circle of immortality, fearful he might drown and never resurface again.

The worst part is if he would actually survive it.

Death was a luxury, eternity alone was a sentence.

He steps closer and she glanced at him. Her eyes lighting with a gentle smile as she sees him walk towards her; the little dimple in her cheek that he so longed to kiss.

He noticed the curious object she had been sketching for the past few minutes and looked closely. It was his old chess board. The chess pieces standing there in the orange light, looking stoic and foreboding. Anticipating the mental war that might occur.

The fire cackled cheerfully in its hearth as Carlisle approached her; crouching low in front of her as he nodded to the chessboard.

"Do you play?" He asks, as a smile lightly touched his lips.

She glanced up from her sketchpad. Her dark lashes illuminating her golden eyes, as she smirked shyly and shook her head. "I used to, when I was a child. But I had somehow forgotten."

Carlisle nodded then said, "Its not a hard game to learn again, quite simple really."

She shook her head defensively, "It's not."

He chuckled softly at her, "I'll teach you, put those away first." He motioned her to tuck away her sketchpad and pencils.

"You'll win, I know you'll win. I haven't played in almost a decade." She said her lips pursing as her right brow rose lightly.

"How do you know?" He asks, a curious glint in his eyes.

"No doubt you've had time to practice." She mumbled under her breath.

He shook his head fondly at her, as he gave her a long and intense glance.

She stared at him for a moment, and could see clearly in his eyes that he is serious.

She watches as he rearranges the pieces accordingly as he sits himself on the carpet floor. His strong yet delicately sculpted fingers brushing over every single piece with exact precision and control.

She found a hidden smile on her lips as she continued to watch him.

His gentle features calm and resolute against the roaring flames before them; his skin glowing lightly beneath its warm fires.

She longed to be near to him but instead she kept her distance; there was something about tonight that seemed to be waiting, and it was something that hung in the night air like some black cloth hovering above them, hiding their secrets beneath its dark sheets.

The game started a few moments later. With Carlisle briefly explaining to Esme how the game should be played, but instead of listening to his words, she was completely distracted by his voice yet again.

Its soothingly mellifluous timbre that felt like melted sugar to her ears, coated by his foreign accent and deep undertones.

She had no way of winning this game.

But she was ready to begin.

Their mental games started coyly. Either of them observing the other for a sign of any weaknesses.

Esme was impulsive and daring; coquettishly innocent with her chess pieces yet when her trap was woven it was difficult for escape. She was subtle yet exact, which made Carlisle wonder whether or not she was teasing him before about her chess skills.

Carlisle on the other hand was incredibly strategic and meticulous. Every move had to be measured and calculated before he would proceed. He was well planned, neat and cunning.  
But one could not help but be surprised at his insidious ways (in chess at least) of achieving victory with his angel of a face.

Carlisle sat there looking at her from across the chessboard. His eyes studying every inch of her beautiful face. Watching her little eccentric movements that filled him with a deep longing to know the mystic reasons behind them. Wondering what thoughts she were thinking of; wondering if they were good or bad and wondering what her thoughts of him were.

She was a sight to behold. A gentle thing of beauty.

The little flowery bats of her lashes as she decided mentally.

The subtle smirks in her lips when she would find the answer she sought.

The way her eyes looked at him. Staring at his bare soul with soft eyes; filled with the hidden promise of eternity.

There was a silent conversation happening between their fingers; deciding the fate of their inanimate soldiers. Deciding whether their lives would be spared or not. The brave little figurines stood there bright and tall, awaiting their Master's command.

Their game was starting to reach its peak; their scores closing in to a draw. Only one would emerge the victor.

There was the King on his side, and the Queen on hers. One final dance before the end.

One last hurrah for those who had fallen. A last offering of peace before the war would end.

Either of them was consumed by deep silence as the pondered on their motives in hushed secrecy.

But there was much more to this simple game of chess. Much more than words could say, and perhaps even more than his eyes could betray.

"Esme?" He spoke uttered softly. Gently cutting through the foggy silence between them.

His voice held the question, and she had the answer. There was no turning back now.

She looked up, somehow surprised by his sudden interruption from the intense concentration they had once been in.

"Yes?" She asked bemused.

"There's something I'd like to perhaps talk to you about." He finally says. His gaze falling on to the necklace around her neck.

Her brows furrowed, "What is it about?"

There was a stray lock of his blonde hair that was astray on his face as he spoke, "Are you happy?"

She felt the words from her mouth dissolve into her tongue. It certainly was not a question she expected to hear.

"Am. . .Am I happy?" She repeated.

He bowed his head infinitesimally and waited for her response.

"Carlisle, what do you mean?" Her eyes were now fixated on him, the burning question in her eyes.

A soft breath escaped his lips as he fumbled with a discarded chess piece. His eyes thoughtful, yet bated.

"Do you remember the night of your graduation?"

"My graduation? Carlisle what are you talking about?" Her voice was starting to falter. His questions were no longer making sense.

"Tell me if you remember, please." Carlisle asked, some hidden emotion in his voice.

Her face was confused but her eyes grew glossy as she wandered through time. The old memory played itself clearly into her mind.

A memory she had not recalled in the longest time, and the memory of a vague dream from her youth that was starting to recover itself.

_"You're staying here and marry Charles." It was her mother's voice. Cold and final._

_"But Mother I want to be a teacher, please." She was pleading, her eyes threatening to well up with her tears of frustration._

_"The decision is made Esme; I know what's best for my daughter." Her mother snapped._

_Her mind somehow skipped everything else and played a distantly familiar memory._

_She had been sleeping for over an hour. Her body tired from her heavy sobs._

_She could feel something._

_A presence in the room._

_She was half asleep but somehow managed to remain conscious of her surroundings._

_She felt the pressure on the side of her bed give way to something._

_Esme fought hard to open her eyes but she felt so tired. Suddenly she felt something cold brush past her cheek._

_It was not the wind._

_It was not a draft._

_The touch was intentional, precise. Gentle._

_She could hear a voice whisper in her ear, a voice so soft it could barely be described as human. And yet she could hear the words clearly._

_"Loving thee, my heart is thine."_

_A faceless voice in the dark._

Her memory was interrupted before she could continue.

She stared down at her hand to find Carlisle holding it. He was sitting closely to her now, a secret message in his eyes that he so desperately wished to share.

He gently lifted her hands to his lips and chastely kissed them.

Her eyes looked at him in recognition, her voice barely above a whisper. "You were there."

"Yes."

She felt her chest constrict, "All this time. . .All this time you never told me. . .Why?"

His eyes were looking elsewhere, "Carlisle. . .Answer me. . ." She pleaded.

"The necklace. . .I left it for you. . ." He spoke, his voice suddenly deep.

"What?" She asked flabbergasted. Her fingers clutching the heart pendant.

Carlisle remained silent. A shadow casting itself across his perfected features.

Esme couldn't take it any longer. She pushed the chessboard away and knelt closer to him; placing a delicate hand on his shoulder.

"Why Carlisle? Speak to me please."

For the first time in his immortal life Carlisle felt weak under Esme's soft yet piercing gaze. He hadn't realized that he was backed up against a large hypothetical wall as her question lingered in the air above them.

"I swore that I would never return. But I did, twice. I had to see you again, your face haunted me. . .But I never found the courage to let you see me again. . ."

"Carlisle. . ." She softly whispered.

"The second time, I vowed that it would be the last time I would look upon you. Vowing that I would let you go and lead a life of your own. . .And I fulfilled that promise. . .for a time. . "

"Then that night I found you once more. After the storm. You were lying on a cold examining table, shrouded in a white cloth; barely breathing. And my heart went out to you; I stood there in that room and shared your pain. Until I came to a decision. . ."

"It was the only thing I could think of to save your life. . ." His voice was dark, impassioned.

"I thought it was the best that I could do. The best that I could give you, but I was afraid. Frightened of the life you would now live because of me."

"I couldn't have told you. . ."

"Tell me what?" She asked, nudging him lightly so he would look at her.

Time was stopping again. His lips were starting to part and everything seemed to move slowly.

This was the moment.

This, was their moment of truth.

For a long while she had been afraid of falling. Afraid of loving; fearing the consequences that awaited her if it all ended up in pieces. Crashing and burning; wondering if she could find strength to begin again. But she did and survived.

She never knew what love like this felt like, and wondered a thousand times what it would be like to love someone so exquisitely. So completely.

But this was a different fear. And a different kind of fall. She was afraid of taking that long plunge into that deep fall that had no end.

Her feelings were clear. The truth was waiting.

"I was afraid to tell you. . .Tell you I love you. . ." He whispered.

Her gaze met his.

It was not his handsome face she loved the most.

Not those tender lips she longed to kiss, nor those golden irises that resembled the setting sun at dusk.

But the strength of his heart.

Carlisle's face was tense, his eyes pained. Waiting for her reply that could either tear him apart or make him whole.

She looked at him and smiled, placing a hand to his cheek.

_I love you_

The words still echoing with life into her ears as her lips parted, ready to speak.

"I've loved you from the moment you walked through that door. When what you saw was merely a girl trembling with a broken leg, and I saw you walking towards me. I thought the pain would never end, until you spoke my name. And that night you kissed me before you left, I loved you then as I love you now Carlisle."

Carlisle took her in her arms and held her close the emotion inside of him threatening to burst apart.

"Darling, I love you. Even when we were apart, even through the pain I suffered, I called out your name. I carried you with me, your memory, your voice, your face. . ." She whispered into his ear as she held onto him.

"Esme. . .I. ."

She shushed him into silence as she pressed her soft mouth against his.

Their lips brushed timidly against each other at first. Carlisle's lips were shy and gentle, and Esme could no longer bear the frenzied emotions that were building inside of her.

She then slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a deeper kiss as she gave him quiet permission. Brushing her nose lightly against his; urging him with her delicate mouth for a response.

He gently devoured her lips in a hungry kiss in reply. His vehement passion boiling to the surface in a torrent as her honey-tongue softly mingled with his in sweet ecstasy.

No woman could stir such emotions in him as she has done; Awakening the life in him that he thought died a long time ago.

Bringing him back to life with her love.

He was utterly intoxicated, her taste drowning his senses like wine.

He had to break the kiss before he lost all control.

"Esme," He said breathily; leaning his forehead against hers.

"Yes?" she whispered, feeling his breath on her face. Her lips flushed.

"There is one more question I have to ask." He said, his strong arms still holding her affectionately by the waist.

"What is it?" She asked, her eyes glimmering for the answer.

He leaned close till his soft lips found her ear and whispered, "Marry me."

It was the happiest day of her immortal life.

**A/N: Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! XD Thank you again for all your WONDERFUL reviews! I LOVE you all, my incredibly awesomely gorgeous readers! :) Sorry again for the brief delay :)**

**Stay tuned for chapter 27 ;) I wonder what happens next ;D**

**Keep Readin'**

**God Bless and Stay Awesome :)**


	27. Forever Golden

The snow had finally stopped falling.

The hidden sun desperately swimming through the thick grey cottons, possessively suffocating its rays with dilatory caresses.

A still peace overcame the small town as its streets and sidewalks were covered by infinite seas of frosty rain. The large rooftops on the Victorian houses near the town; shrouded with snow.

It was December 20th.

A sweet yet cold chill in the air brought by the December wind.

The ring had arrived the night before.

It was resting in a small crimson box, carefully tucked away within the protective confines of his study room.

Edward had seen to all the arrangements that were necessary; working like quick-silver as he fastidiously worked on one errand after another, eager for the main event to unfold itself together with the winter season.

The ceremony would be beautiful, simple but beautiful. But to Carlisle, every moment seemed endless; an array of one idyllic minute after another. A beginning of a new life. A new hope for the future, one that had no end.

The days had new meaning and brought some secret surprise that awaited him with hidden rapture.

He had finally found his Holy Grail of happiness.

And it was _she._

She had uttered the words that his lips could not speak. Felt the pain of his secrets that he dared not reveal to another soul.

Felt his heart beat when it no longer did.

He was dressing later that afternoon.

His fingers eager with the promise of a new day to begin as he closed the buttons that lined his shirt. He felt as if some dark cloud had been rolled away, some archaic fear dissolving with the coming of day and the faint whispers of sun.

He adjusted the tie around his collar and smoothed out the intricate wrinkles. The silk cloth of the tie slipping through his fingers easily as he tucked it in with a single motion.

He looked out his frosted window with delighted curiosity. Down below he could see Edward walking in from town and heading towards the house.

The ceremony would begin soon.

The air seemed inexpressibly lighter that day. A deep tranquillity that resonated in the cold air.

Giving him that familiar feeling of sheer excitement. For the first time in 300 years, he was alive again.

He finished dressing and ran a comb through his golden locks; neatly brushing his blonde hair away from his face when a knock briefly interrupted the still silence in his room.

"Come in." He said as he adjusted the cuffs on his cream-white dressing shirt.

"Everything's ready. They should be here in 30 minutes." Edward said as he walked inside the room, closing the door behind him.

"Thank you son." Carlisle said smiling at Edward as he walked towards his adoptive father, lightly patting him on the shoulder.

Carlisle was about to put on his black coat, "Here, let me help you." Edward said as he helped him into the dark garment, fixing and smoothing out any creases.

Carlisle noticed the unusually pleasant expression on his son's face as he turned to face him.

Instantly Edward read his thoughts and replied without taking an upward glance, "I'm just happy for you."

"Thank you Edward, for everything."

Carlisle watched as his son gave an infinitesimal nod as a shy smile slyly found its way onto his lips.

"How do you feel?" Edward asks.

"Happy. I feel happy." He replies quietly, his golden eyes naked with the simple truth.

He pulls out the little crimson box from his pocket as he opened it. He took out its content and held it in his palm.

"Do you think she'll like it?" He asks Edward.

"Yes, she will."

He smiles lightly as he held the golden wedding band between his fingers. The word 'Je T'aime' engraved subtly in the ring.

Esme was sitting in her dresser. An unwavering smile delicately placed upon her lips as she combed her hair; a small bouquet of white roses sitting on her lap.

She was dressed in a wonderful silver-white frock that was meticulously beaded with pale-pink crystals and pearl embellishments.

She wore very little make-up, and the only jewellery she wore was the gold necklace he had given her years ago.

She glanced at herself in the mirror, and for the first time recognized the eyes that stared back at her.

She had been found.

Despite the darkness she had gone through, there indeed was the light.

Esme sat there for a long while, thinking.

Thinking about the event that lay ahead. Feeling that somehow this was her past, her present and her future.

That incredulous feeing of familiarity; feeling as if she had lived through this before yet was experiencing it all for the first time. It felt strangely exhilarating, yet oddly it gave her peace as if a missing part of her was returned, and she was whole again. Giving her permission to _live_ again, whatever that meant.

She thought about Carlisle.

His smile.

His touch.

The strength of his love, _his_ heart.

How he had saved her.

She knew there was no one else, no one her heart could belong to. It was him from the beginning, him till the last human breath she drew and him when her golden eyes opened for the first time.

There was only Carlisle.

Her missing soul, and it was him.

When he looked at her, really looked at her with those kind eyes, it was as if the world disappeared and it was only the two of them. Lost in a world of their own. Somehow if she said something, he would know the answer; even if it was just a look. But to her it was eternity in a fleeting glance.

He was like the infinitely restless ocean, calling her out to him with loving pleas, asking her to drown in his love.

He was like both the dawn and dusk. Tragically beautiful.

His lips like ambrosia.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in." She softly calls out.

Edward stepped inside, already fully dressed in an impeccably tailored black and white suit as he gently smiles at her. "They're waiting for you and Carlisle wants you to have this." He then walks over to her and hands her the white envelope.

She takes it and watches him exit the room. She stares at it in curiosity and then opens it. It was a letter, a letter from Carlisle.

_Esme, my love._

_Darling before our wedding takes place, I wanted to write this to you. To take a moment to share my thoughts with you my dearest but most of all to thank you._

_Thank you for your kindness, for showing me what it meant to live again. Thank you for teaching me there was more to life than this darkness. For sharing with me your secrets, your fears, hopes, and dreams._

_For returning my heart to me with your love._

_For giving this lost soul a home._

_For giving this hopeless wanderer refuge from a world so lonely and unforgiving._

_Leaving you that night I returned for the second time was the hardest decision I had to make._  
_But there was never a day I didn't think you of you._

_I was in the dark for so long, until you came and lifted the rags I hid myself in._

_Then I saw your face._

_And you saved me._

_But most of all my sweet Darling, thank you for giving me thine love as I hath given you mine which is eternally yours to have and to hold infinitely._

_Forever yours,_

_C._

They were ready to begin.

There were four people in the large foyer: There was an elderly priest, his younger black-haired brother serving as the witness. Edward of course, looking charmingly handsome in his suit. Then there was Carlisle who stood next to his adoptive-son, looking equally handsome in his black and white ensemble. He looked every bit of the handsome groom yet his eyes seemed tense.

Edward could easily tell what he was so anxious about.

"She's not going to get cold feet." He joked.

Carlisle shook his head as a smile unbidden passed his lips. He drew in a breath and leaned close, "Did she say anything? Anything at all?"

"Carlisle. . ." Edward said, his eyes glancing at the top of the stairs.

Carlisle looked at Edward strangely, "What is it?" He asks, slightly distracted.

Edward nodded to what he was looking at, and Carlisle followed his gaze, his breath constricting in his throat.

There she was. Standing at the top of the stairs smiling down at him fondly. Looking immensely beautiful in a vision of white.

She made her way gracefully down the stairs; the hem of her dress delicately trailing behind her, sliding down softly against the carpeted floor.

She was beautiful, absolutely lovely to behold.

As she made her way down, Edward stood there at the bottom of the steps; a delightful smile on his face as he watched her. He was standing poised and chivalrous, extending his arm for her to hold as he escorted her through the cavernous foyer.

He then lead her towards the latter as they stood underneath the large renaissance styled chandelier.

Carlisle and Esme stood there smiling at eachother.

"You look beautiful." Carlisle mouthed to Esme as he watched her give a silent giggle.

The priest then began reciting, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and woman in holy matrimony. . . ."

Esme stood there. Looking deep into the eyes of the man she loved, thanking God over and again for a chance at life. A chance at _love_.

The priest continued, "Let us not forget that God reuinites those who have loved before. . ."

Carlisle was holding her hand; gently stroking her fingers with his thumb affectionately, his eyes never leaving hers.

"And let us not also forget that Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. . ."

"I love you," Esme whispers to Carlisle as she smiles at him.

"Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. . ." The priest's voice echoed through the room.

Carlisle looks at her with shining eyes, tugging her closer to hear his reply.

"Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." The priest concluded.

"Je T'aime." He replies.

The priest clears his throat, "Preferably in english, my son."

Carlisle chuckles, "I love you too."

The priest had a frisson of mirth before motioning Edward for the rings.

Carlisle then takes the ring from its velvet pillow and then takes Esme's hand and says, "With this ring I thee wed." Then slips on the golden band onto her ivory finger.

It was her turn as the priest nodded to her. She takes the ring from Edward and turns to face Carlisle, "With this ring I thee wed." She then places the ring onto his right finger, a radiant smile on her face as she looks at him.

"May the Lord Jesus Christ bless and keep you as I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride."

Edward watched as Carlisle kissed Esme for the very first time.

And he knew when he saw the look in his father's eyes; that look of ethereal euphoria, knew in his heart that these two souls were meant to be. Some strange celestial fate assigned to their destiny, vowing that these two hearts would never part.

And he secretly wondered if fate would be so kind to spare him the same destiny. To truly find that one person to share his heart and soul with. Giving him that pivotal moment of truly finding the peace he too so longed for.

Edward stood there smiling as he watched the newly-weds break from their kiss.

_". . . . They were both a wonder to look upon. Like two lost souls finding eachother again. Like a ship lost at sea with the feral waters threatening to overcome them, yet after a long and trubulent storm finds land at the last moment when all hope seemed lost; despite the odds that were turned against them in the beginning. And I wondered in secrecy to myself, if love could find him, could it find me too? Can someone truly love someone as cursed as I?_

**A/N: Hey guys! I am so sorry for the delay. I've been busy the past couple of weeks due to the fact that I'm moving to a new house soon so my deep apologies haha! Anyways I wanna take this moment to thank you all for your lovely reviews and your continued support of this story. I truly appreciate you guys and I love you all :)**

**On that note, I'm truly sad to say that I will be following up the final chapter for this story sometime later next week 3':, as much as I would LOVE to prolong this story more, I have another waiting and it's an original story I am working on and will be posting in Wattpad in maybe a month or so, I'm still in the editing process of the first few chapters :) So for those who are interested in reading that, just pm me for more info :)**

**God Bless and stay tuned for Chapter 28 :)**


	28. Soulmates

_They were in his room._

_It was past 11._

_The frosted glass masking the sounds of the whispering winds; redolent in their words as they carried stories of past winters._

_The residual glow of the warm embers dying in the hearth._

_They stood there at the centre of the room. The world beginning to fade away in the distance._

_No sound disturbed the peace; the only sound that could be heard was the sound of their warm breaths, steady and deep as a beating pulse. The air was still, the faint scent of snow in the room._

_She felt safe as she stood there, cradled in his arms. Drowning in his scent, in his love._

_His mouth was on her neck, as her heart was pressed against his; feeling the trail of his kisses like butterfly wings gliding down her porcelain skin._

_It was a moment in time. A moment of bliss and perfect love. The promise of a new beginning to a new eternity as she felt his lips on hers; delicately relishing her sweet taste against his mouth. A taste so innocently beguiling yet so tempting and seductive that he lost all senses completely as he surrendered to her; bearing his soul for her to see and his heart for her to touch. Their illicit fires beginning to arise from their ashes._

_He trailed his sweet kisses from her neck and down to her fingertips, adoring every inch of her with his loving mouth. Esme rested her left hand on his chest as she ran her right hand through his golden locks, twirling her little finger around his blonde hair as she smiled._

_He murmured something into her ear as she gave a soft laugh, he then took her left hand and was about to kiss it when he noticed something different._

_Her left wrist was somehow ever so slightly different in shape than the right. As if the bone inside it had gone through some sort of trauma in the past; for there was a definite difference between the two that his trained medical eye could not miss. He was not quite sure if it had happened in the fall. It was possible of course. But then again, instinct was telling him something else._

_His once mirth-lighted eyes had dim down to seriousness as a piercing gaze for the truth replaced them._

_"Darling, how did you get this?" He asked as he gently held her left wrist in front of her._

_"Sweetheart, its nothing. It was just a scar from years before." Esme replied, somehow hoping Carlisle wouldn't pursue the subject any further._

_"Darling please, I have to know. I am your husband now, Don't you trust me?" He said softly, stroking her cheek with his hand._

_She closed her eyes and took in a breath._

_It was one of the more permanent scars she had received from Charles, a dark reminder of those horrible years. She shivered at the mere memory of it, "It. . .It was years ago, Charles had read my diary one evening, I had written something about you years before I married him. . .He thought it was infidelity. . ."_

_Her beautiful face was suddenly filled with dreaded fear as the memory continued in her mind._

_"He hit me. . . again. . .and again. . ."_

_Carlisle was silent, frozen in rage almost. His voice was barely audible. "What else did he do?"_

_Her lips felt dry as she licked them nervously. "Everything. . .He pinned me down to the ground and grasped my wrist tightly. . ."_

_"He didn't choke me. . .But he wanted to. . .I could feel it. . ." She whispered._

_She hoped and prayed that the name Charles would never resurface from her lips again. She didn't want to talk about him or what he did. Not ever. Not tonight._

_Especially tonight._

_After hearing her response Carlisle's face darkened with some inexplicable rage that was intertwined with his inner pain as he looked away._

_His arms around her loosened as he backed away inches at a time. His back slowly turning to face her._

_Esme did not show it but she was terribly hurt at his sudden action. But more so worried at his lowered head that was usually held high. His shoulders were sloped and tense._

_She moved slowly towards him, her voice strained with worry. "Carlisle?"_

_She saw through the outlines of his shirt how his muscles contracted and expanded as he let out a heavy breath, and when he spoke his voice sounded tortured, heavy with guilt._

_"Could you ever forgive me?" He could barely glance at her as he tilted his head lightly to the side._

_Esme shook her head as she took one more step towards Carlisle; embracing him from behind, as she rested her cheek against his back._

_Her soft breath, once again tingling his skin beneath the fabric of the shirt he wore as she spoke. "There's nothing to forgive. If I didn't go through all the things that happened in the past, I would have never found you again. It was never your fault my Darling, don't you know by now-"_

_"And I took your life. . ."His voice was a broken whisper._

_"How could you, how could I ever forgive myself. . ." He whispered more to himself than her._

_She gently forced him to turn and face her, his golden eyes darkened by his sadness._

_"I have you, I already have everything I will ever want. I love you Carlisle. Can't you see that?" She replied, giving him strength with her words._

_She held onto him as she softly pressed her lips against his in a reassuring kiss._

_Her tender touches, soft and loving as they chased all fear and guilt away from his heart. And in return filling it with all her love._

_His arms were holding her more closely now as his kisses deepened. The conservative Englishman inside of him, making his aching fingertips shy to touch her skin so that they only remained on the soft cloth that covered her body. Some age-old fear that she might break or crumble like the ancient statues of Greece if he held her too close or too tightly; fearful of the consequences of his strength._

_Esme noticed the pensive look in his eyes. She then gently placed her hand on his strong jaw as she rested her thumb on his chin, comforting him with her touch._

_"Darling, I won't break." She whispered lovingly into his ear._

_He smiled at her. A beautifully intimate glint in his eyes as he kissed her once more, his eyes sparkling like stars in the black night. His courage regained as his fingertips became daring as they slyly entangled themselves onto the little ribbon behind her back; gently pulling them apart as the soft fabric glided easily from their knot and fell teetering to the sides._

_The call of the night was awaiting them as he slipped his strong arms beneath her slender legs. Lifting her off the ground in one swift motion, feeling the strength of his arms about her as he carried her across the room._

_A tranquil smile formed on her lips as she watched his face. That serene face that called out to her very soul, she gently stroked his cheek as he placed a gentle kiss on her palm and whispered to her affectionately, "I love you."_

_Before she knew it, she was softly laid down on the bed. The cotton fabric stretching itself out like the endless ocean in sheets of white._

_She watched as her paramour laid beside her; looking almost like a fairy in the yellow light, his lips delicately parted as he leaned in to kiss her._

_There something magical about that night. The way his lips fit so perfectly against hers, the way their breaths intertwined like the warm breezes of summer; the way their bodies touched and remained hidden from the eyes of the world as they entered wonderland at midnight._

_It was not long till they slipped out of their clothes and. . ._

Present day.

Forks, Washington.

She was standing there in the darkened attic. The faint glow of light from the small window, pouring its nostalgic rays into the room.

Esme had awoken from her deep reverie as the stream of memories from the past slows down.

She was still clutching the old torn piece of handkerchief that she had found an hour earlier from the boxes she had been rummaging through.

It looked old. A shorn piece of white cloth. Stained by the patina of time. It was very strange. She held it out in front of her as she examined it.

It was the white handkerchief.

_Her_ white handkerchief. She once swore it was forever lost to the sea, but there it was. How it had managed to find its way into the boxes, she had no answer.

She decided that she would ask Carlisle about it later when she came down.

She was humming softly to herself as she continued neatly piling a few boxes to the other side of the cavernous room till she had found the box she was looking for. They would be recieving a guest soon so it would be best that flowers should be placed in the living room to add a bit of life when Bella would arrive. She needed to first find that charming pale-lavender antique vase that she was rather fond of. With a flick of her wrist she then brushes a lock of hair behind her as she crouched low to open the box that contained the things she needed.

But before she could continue, her mind was drifting away again to the memory of that night.

The winter dawn.

The silk sheets.

Carlilse lying so close to her, his delicate hands running freely through her hair.

The sound of their soft whispers lacing in the air above them.

Esme's right hand found it's way to the heart-pendant as she smiled, the resonating image of the night she and Carlisle first shared together still fresh in her mind, the memory not even once aging a day. Forever preserved.

She was smiling secretly to herself. She felt immense happiness for Edward at finally finding someone who could see past his shy and silent demeanour as she had done in the past. It could be the start of something wonderful for Bella and Edward, a chance for him to find the happiness he deserved.

Esme could sense even in the past that Edward was very lonely. He was of course too shy to even speak of it, but she hoped that would all change soon.

As she thought of him, Esme began recollecting some of her memories of the long past before her. Somehow marvelling at how her loving family has grown with the addition of: Alice, Jasper, Rosalie and Emmet.

They were hers and Carlisle's adoptive children, but they both loved them the same way as if they were their own.

She let out a soft chuckle as she heard Emmet's loud laugh echo throughout the house. A definite sign that he had done another one of his famous pranks. Which him and Jasper would have found amusing with the exception of Edward and her two girls, Alice and Rose.

She felt blessed at having such a large family. One she never thought she would have.

Meanwhile. . .

Edward was in his large bedroom, silently pacing back and forth as Clair De Lune echoed into the air.

He was nervous. And that was a first, He _never _gets nervous.

She was going to visit for the very first time today. _Bella Swan._

He leaned his lanky body against the glass window; his copper hair catching the infinitesimal glisten that his skin radiated from the faint sunlight as he stared out into the diaphanous fog that was hovering above the forest. Pondering on the event that lay ahead.

A soft knock echoed into the room.

It was Carlisle.

"Edward, have you seen your mother?" He asks as he enters the room.

"I think she's in the attic." He replies simply, his mind distracted.

"Could you kindly tell her I need to speak to her son?"

"Will do." Edward says as he watches Carlisle exit out into the corridor.

He took a pause as he ran his thoughts in order before checking the time on his wristwatch. He would need to leave soon to pick up Bella from her house.

He made a mental note as he took the opposite end of the hallway, finding his way easily towards the wooden stairs that lead to the attic.

He poked his head in from the door to find Esme's familiar delicate figure crouched low next to some boxes.

A knock interrupted her thoughts. She turned to find Edward standing at the door, his handsome face seemed expectant.

"Carlisle's asking for you." He says.

"Alright, I'll be down in a minute." She replies.

Esme descends the stairs a few minutes later carrying the vase to find the living room filled with her young teenagers. Emmet was playing on his video games whilst Jasper watched, and on the other side of the room Alice and Rose were heavily engrossed in a fashion magazine.

She couldn't seem to find her husband.

"He's in the kitchen," Edward says, donning a black jacket as he paused for a moment.

"Thank you dear," Esme replies as she smiles.

Edward nodded and gave a quick smile before exiting towards the front door. He would be back soon with Bella.

Esme walks to the kitchen to find her husband organizing the pots and pans needed for the meal they were about to prepare for their guest. That familiar blonde lock of hair dangling adorably on his forehead as he meticulously arranged the cutting utensils he needed.

He smiled as he saw his wife.

She could not help but supress a grin as she saw him, that dark blue cashmere sweater was just divine against his perfect figure.

She placed the vase next to the sink, her mind was still on the question she wanted to ask him and decided this was the best time to ask.

"Carlisle, where did you find this?" Esme says, as she raised the torn handkerchief, pausing briefly as her slender frame leaned against the sink.

He gives her a knowing smile and steps aside from his cooking arsenal and walks directly towards her.

"Walk with me?" He whispers, taking her hand as he lead Esme to the back door that led to their backyard that was facing the forest.

She couldn't help but follow, never being able to resist him even if she wanted to.

Her question though about the handkerchief was still unanswered.

He held her hand as they walked side by side. Even after all these years, even through all the intimate secrets they shared. Carlisle still held a mystery to her that never failed to excite her, entrance her. Hypnotize her with his melodic voice and golden eyes. Yet despite his obvious charms, he was above all, _kind_. In every sense of the word, and as gentle as a passing breeze that carried the promise of spring.

They were walking a long while into the green woodlands, their intertwined hands gently swaying at their gate.

She could tell Carlisle was lightly teasing her with his silence.

Even simply by his body language. He had a secret, they way his achingly handsome face dipped low as if trying to hide something, and the way his eyes looked at her with a charming sense of hidden excitement. But what gave it all away was the way he carried his lips that were at the moment slightly pursed, as if sealing the secret by holding his tounge.

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze as he laughed in that melodious voice that was sure to challenge her resolve.

They both stoppped coincidentally as Esme stared at him, her golden eyes affectionately scolding him for not telling her the reason behind his bemusing actions.

She knew he wasn't going to tell her just easily so Esme decided it was time for a little persuasion.

She inched closer to him as she placed her hands on his chest. A mischevous look in her eyes as she cornered him against a tree.

She then kissed him softly on the lips, Carlisle pulls her closer to him as she wraps her arms around his neck. He brushes her hair back behind her shoulder as he glides his gentle lips against the alabaster skin on her neck. "I love you," He whispers breathily.

"I love you too." She replies warmly.

Her tender lips then find their way to his ear lobe as she tauntingly nibbles on it.

"Mmm," He softly coos in her ear, "Are you trying to seduce me Darling?" A delicious smirk tugging at his lips.

"I don't know." She said as she smiled, rubbing her nose lightly against his, "Is it working?" She asks as her hands moved to his flanks, firmly pinning him against the tree and herself.

"If you won't let me go love, I won't be able to give you my surprise."

Her eyes widened, child-like curiosity in her black pupils.

He felt a wave of joy at her reaction. The glow of happiness on her face never ceasing to tingle his heart with warmth.

He then held out his palm and opened it, there rested in gold was a circular pendant which has been engraved with the Olympic coven on one side.

He placed it on her hands as he said, "Turn it over."

Esme smiled as she turned it to the other side; the splotches of sun seeping from the rain clouds as its light reflected onto the pendant, making it shimmer with life. There engraved at the back was an intricate outlined image of a Cherub Angel with the words 'Always Loved' at the bottom.

"You remembered," She whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

"How could I forget? I know he much he meant to you. To us." He smiled sweetly as he looked at her.

Esme never mentions it but she never forgets the day.

The day she first held her child in the Ashland Hospital, and the last time she saw him. She mentioned it to Carlisle a handful of times in the past, but seldom lingered on the subject for it brought her much pain.

And Carlisle never questioned her when she would ask him that she preferred to go alone when she would go visit her son's grave. But on this particular day he wanted her to know that he would be there; always be there to comfort her in her moment of pain, rejoice in the happiness they shared and to always love her. Even if it meant taking away her misery and bearing it as his own, he would. For he loved her truly and eternally.

For there was no one on this earth, who touched his heart, his _soul_, as deeply as she had done.

In the beginning he made it a point to save her life, never even knowing she too would save him in return.

Insurmountable feelings of rapture and gratitude engulfs her in a sweet embrace as she held her husband close.

Placing his hand to where her still heart laid. This simple action in all its innocence and loving intent was the best she could muster when words fled her soft lips.

But he knew what unspoken words her soul wanted so desperately to say as he held her closer to him. She rested her head on his chest as he held her protectively to keep her from being swept away by her emotions. She was his sky and he was her ocean.

Carlisle then gently touches her cheek as he lifts her chin lightly so that her eyes met his.

He then places a kiss on the corner of her mouth as he did on that night on the sidewalk light-years ago. Back when the world still seemed new, steeped in hidden treasures; filled with battles to be fought, lovers to be lost.

And lovers to be found again.

The memory was still fresh in their minds and heart, and as sweet as the first rain of spring as golden eyes meet once again.

They both knew their love would always be this.

_Timeless._

And their eternity was only just beginning.

**A/N: Hey guys! The final Chapter! Woohoo!**

**Thank you all very much from the bottom of my heart for all your loving reviews, support and encouragement of this story. There's nothing more an aspiring writer could ever hope for than having you AMAZING people as readers. :')**

**I love you guys, and you all stay awesome :') God bless and till the next fanic ;D**

**Yours with much love and affection,**  
**AutomneArcher-**


End file.
